We, The Spiritless
by Janet-Mufasa
Summary: Five years since Elsa's death Anna has seen through Hans' little act and her love for Kristoff has only gotten stronger despite her separation from him. One careless slip of her tongue and Hans finds out. Now Kristoff faces the wrath of a furious king and he isn't the only one who will suffer. Who will live...who will die? Will the years of torment ultimately leave them spiritless?
1. A slip of the tongue

A sickly crack ran through the derilect stone building, and a scream of agony rang out, accompanied by its many chilling echoes.

Blood freezes to the floor.

Silent echoes illustrate triumphant footsteps, tainted red, cold as ice.

... Five years later...

Anna awoke from her ill spent slumber, a new ache shooting through her left arm and she winced as she rolled off of it, and then recoiling forward again once her body came into contact with another's.

"I see you're awake." He whispered. She shivered on the inside but dared not to let it show through. She willed the little tremors into stillness and hummed in response.

Hans usually wasn't that rough with her, she noted, and then out of forced habit wrapped her arms around his as they snaked their way around her.

She sighed and closed her eyes as he brought his face to rest right up against her own and tried to feel comforted by the warmth and the vibration of his low chuckle.

He kissed her neck, enclosing his mouth against her skin and then assaulted her with his tongue for a moment. He moved up to her jawline and then slowly made his way towards her ear, his arms tightening suddenly around her waist.

her gasp was partly out of shock and partly due to the force at which he embraced her, crushing her under his grip. Her heart began to pick up the pace and she whimpered, frantically trying to free herself. Her resistance only caused for him to laugh even harder and then she stole a glance to her side, catching the dark and maliciously wicked look in his eyes, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, Anna, you know I love you... but tell me dear, why have you been unfaithful to me..?" He hissed into her ear, gripping one of her breast extra tight with his nails.

She was thankful for the thick clothing that separated them, because she knew that was going to leave a bruise and she cried in fear, "I-I haven't been! Wh-what do you me-"

he turned her over and pressed himself against her, lifting a hand to her throat and gently applying pressure, threatening to use his vice like grip once more.

"Oh really? Then my sweet little Anna, could you tell me who 'Kristoff' is?" He growled at her.

her eyes fluttered wide and her entire heart sank into her stomach and she silently screamed as he tried tightened his grip, inching closer to suffocating her every second she refused to reply.

"I'm waiting Anna. I'll wake you up again later when you're ready to tell me." He purred sarcastically. Soon his grip would surely knock her out.

She was too panicked to link together a coherent sentence but when he had had enough of her terrified bawling he gave a sharp warning squeeze and she finally managed a word;

"ICE!" she cried, sobbing. When their seemingly perfect marriage had turned into this horror-novel-like reality she was unsure, but she knew in her heart that it wasn't Hans whom she loved. It was in fact Kristoff, although sadly she hadn't so much as spotted him in a crowd since their parting, five years ago.

"Ice?" He spat confused, loosening his grip a little, "What the hell does ice have to do with this?" He hollered.

She gasped up some air and then carefully worded her sentence, "F-five years ago... The N-north mountain...he was an ice harvester. He took me to see Elsa and then brought me home again... I-I haven't seen him since that day." She admitted.

He lingered on top of her for a brief moment before violently shoving off her. He growled in his throat and threw off the covers, leaving her partially bare body to chill unforgivingly.

He turned on his heel and glared at her menacingly, "Well, if you haven't seen him in five DAMN years then what the hell are you crying out his name for?" He spat.

She furrowed her brows and curled into a ball, suddenly remembering her slip of the tongue that night...

He took a step forward and then slammed his hands down either side of her and repeated himself, "Why are you crying out HIS name... When I'M your husband?" He asked, a sarcastic curiosity in his voice.

Suddenly she feels a heat boling up in her chest. She had kept her love for Kristoff a heavily guarded and most precious secret until now.

He slapped her across the face and added, "What does a filthy, underpaid peasant have that I don't? What? What is it Anna? Am I not good enough to match up to him?"

The heat seared her chest and suddenly she blinked away the tears of fear and then daring to move against him, she shoved him off the bed and cried, "EVERYTHING! You could NEVER live up to him!"

He lay on his back with wide eyes and his mouth pressed into a hard line, staring sharp, icy daggers through her heart, almost willing it to freeze all over again.

he stood up so fast that her burst of courage faded away instantly and she leapt up off the bed, running for her life as he chased her. He managed to block off the exit and the slammed her against the wall.

"And what gives you that impression?" He hissed.

She shuddered and then replied, "Kristoff actually loved me... He would have let Elsa live..." She whimpered.

He released and dropped her to the floor and then stormed away without another glance.

"She was a threat. In my way. She had to go." He cooly replied.

XxXxXxXxX


	2. You're all I have

It hadn't been a very eventful day, Kristoff noted as he trudged through the dirt and mud, the rains of the season leaving the usually dusty ground, marshy and unwelcoming. He had decided to quit his job harvesting ice since he'd nearly killed himself on the job twice now.

He couldn't help but yearn for the days where it was just him and Sven and no one else. He tripped over, clinging to Sven awkwardly as he misjudged the depth of a puddle, coating his legs from the knee down with cold, heavy muck.

He hissed at the temperature as the moisture caused everything around his calves and ankles to suddenly become unbearable. He cursed, loudly and profoundly and tried to kick off the majority of the gloppy substance, but it only caused the stuff to flick around and spread further.

He sighed in defeat after he nearly fell over again, and Sven boosted him up with his head. For a moment, Kristoff stared into those big gooey eyes that adored him unconditionally, and held his head in his arms, stilling his rage and suddenly revelling in how amazing it was that such a creature could come to love him so.

Sven grunted softly and licked his face, breaking the trance for a moment, but the feeling of loss overcame him. He scratched his friend behind the ears and rested his head on his fuzzy mane and mumbled,

"Sven, you're my only friend. I love you so much buddy." He choked on his words for a moment as the realisation set in that truly, since he'd surrendered Anna to that prissy 'king' he had been left with a gigantic, obnoxiously gaping canyon in his heart.

Yes, yes, he hadn't known her for more than three days, but in truth, he had finally found someone who accepted him, and liked him for all his flaws and his bugs. He found someone who, like Sven, didn't care how he smelled, or didn't talk nicely, and was weird beyond several human levels.

After Anna, all he was left with was Sven again, which used to be enough, but unlike Sven, again, Anna was another of his own kind. He'd lived his life as a gruff, and resentful misanthropists for so long, that to actually even LIKE another person that way was a pretty big deal.

Sven playfully butted his head into Kristoff's side and forced him against a tree licking his face relentlessly. He sputtered and laughed, trying to beg him to stop, and once the licking finally subsided, he groaned and put on his best 'unimpressed' face before rolling his eyes and leading the silly creature out of the muck and back up the mountain.

"You know, sometimes I wish I could see her again... Like you know, at ALL? I mean, what is WITH that guy? He's so proper, and stuffy...not her type at all." He began to complain.

He noisily trudged up the mountain trail... The same one he'd trekked with Anna all those years ago. He'd made some kind of ritualistic habit of visiting the magnificent palace of ice to lay his respects to the queen and just simply enjoy the beauty that she could have brought to the world.

"And he killed her sister... That's like... That's like if someone killed you Sven." He whispered.

If some random guy he'd trusted suddenly went up and decided to kill Sven, then he sure as Hell wouldn't be running off to go and, you know, MARRY HIM FOR CHRIST SAKES...

"Maybe it's just some royalty thing. But if I were the king, though I'd suck, I would at least be a better person." He spat venomously.

Then, suddenly, he took notice that Sven hadn't been responding to him like he normally did. He turned to the side and noticed the reindeer had his head low and his eyes alert. His ears were perked and he was completely still.

Kristoff felt a flurry invade his gut and he suddenly took a step closer to him. He petted his mane and looked around, trying to see if he could spot what Sven was sensing...

A slowly increasing in volume 'crunch' littered the air, but it wasn't from the steps of one...but many.

Krisroff cursed the heavy downpour of rain for obscuring his vision, and he sheltered his eyes, peering into the distance.

"If YOU were king, eh?" A sickeningly smooth voice rumbled.

Kristoff knew that voice, he'd heard it over the crowds and in the streets before addressing the public and...

"YOU... A king? Hah! The king of what? Fleas and mites? Ice... And snow?" He chuckled, and then his figured appeared, atop a black horse, and a sinister aura radiating from his soul.

Around them, several matching guards made their presence known and the next few minutes of his life, for the longest time ever, Kristoff would wish were his last.

Hans gestured to them with a single hand and then called to his men, "Behold, gentlemen, the King of Arendelle!"

Sven huffed loudly and lowered himself even further.

"Oh, and who could forget his noble steed..." He drawled out the side of his mouth, rolling his eyes.

A chorus of cruel chortles and wheezes followed and Sven grunted angrily. Kristoff growled in unison, their voices linked together in raw emotion; fear and hatred.

Was...was THIS the man Anna willingly gave her life to? He glared at him and retorted, "We aren't pretty, but the queen surely would appreciate us more than a two faced jerk like YOU..." He stated, unable to hold back.

For or the longest time he had held his tongue, never speaking a word of his love for her, aside from to Sven, but now, even with all these men watching, he was too enraged to care.

"What the hell do you want from us?" He hissed.

Hans flashed a flawless grin and raised a brow, looking DOWN on him, so cockily...so arrogantly. No, this was not the man she deserved in her life.

"You'll see, Kristoff..." He whispered.

He barely had time to recall whether or not he'd ever even told this guy his name before suddenly a bunch of men were surrounding him, grabbing onto him, viciously, another group of men holding down Sven, the creature crying out in shock and pain as they pulled him away from his master.

Hans raised his voice above the chaos and ordered, "Take him in. I leave the creature to your mercy. This shall not be spoken of again."

Kristoff screamed in despration, his heart racing too fast, and stars flying past his eyes like little snowflakes. He reached out his hand to try and grasp his only friend, screaming out his name and begging the men to let him go.

"NO! PLEASE, DO WHAT YOU WANT WITH ME BUT JUST LEAVE HIM! DON'T HURT SVEN!" He sobbed as one of the men drew out something from his back.

Sven roared in fear, his spirit's voice, screaming in Kristoff's mind,

"Please! PLEASE KRISTOFF, COME BACK!" He cried out, verbalising his dearest friend's woes.

A deafening crack, shattered his ears and suddenly the whole world around him slowed.

He could hear his blood pulsing through his own ears, and the hot tears against his eyes were suddenly unfelt against his numb face. He could no longer speak, for his breath had left him with his final cry, the sound of Sven's spirit disconnecting with his own, and the rain, falling mercilessly against the beaten ground.

The reindeer's legs wobbled and another crack boomed over the elements, and the creature fell to the ground.

"no..." Kristoff gasped.

XxXxXxXxX


	3. A perfect family no more

"Why...?" Kristoff breathed onto the hard stone floor. His hands were freezing and his knuckles were bloody and scabbing from the amount of times he had punched things, namely the walls and the floor.

His mouth still tasted like bile from his latest bout of indigestion. He grimaced and coughed up whatever he could, and spat the taste out, nearly missing those ridiculously lavish looking fur boots.

They were Sven once. He couldn't hold his defiant facade for too long before the air was forced out of his lungs with a heavy kick. The force was so much, he rolled onto his back, only to be kicked again, in the ribs.

He screamed, he sobbed, he just wanted to die but 'the king' would not be so kind.

Hans grinned at him and yanked the chain around his neck extra hard, forcefully ceasing his prisoner's rioting, and kicking him once more in the abdomen.

He owned a strength, physically, which Kristoff hadn't been prepared for. Beneath that lithe and regal exterior was a beast more than a man. He'd probably had his share of scuffles and tiffs with his twelve older brothers, and who even KNEW what other people had dared to try and cross him.

The rugged, unsmooth cuffs around his wrists tugged and tore at his skin as he tried to reach the chain to loosen it from his neck, but they were just a link or two short of being able to reach.

Hans chuckled and then suddenly released the chain, stepping on him with those damn boots.

"Tell me, Krsitoff, does it hurt to be beaten by your only friend?" He laughed, grinding the ball of his foot into the tattered shirt and aggravating the bruises already forming there.

"Why..?" Kristoff begged to know, letting himself be crushed into a death like submission.

"I haven't done anything..." He hoarsely cried, although he knew that innocence was completely irrelevant. Why did there need to be a reason? He clearly just felt like punishing him, or so he thought.

His neck was crushed with a metal collar, like a dogs, and his arms and legs were cuffed and chained to the center and base of the wall respectively. His warmer clothes had been stripped of him, leaving him only in his trousers and his undershirt, and the chill of autumn shocked straight into his bones.

Hans pursed his lips and lowered his brows, "You think you're innocent?" He asked.

He shoved off and walked right over him, stepping to the left hand side of the cell, folding his arms behind his back and sighing.

"You ruined her for me." He growled.

"I ruined...what?!" He cried.

"You ruined ANNA you stupid animal! You DESTROYED my marriage!" He hollered, turning sharply back to him and standing over him again.

He growled again, furiously and his balled fists left his side to wrench and tug through his hair for a moment. He screamed and stomped his foot between Kristoff's legs, a grin of relief creeping slowly onto his face at the sound of his victim's sharp howl of pain.

"I-I never even touched her!" He whimpered in defence. "I...I gave her to YOU... I haven't seen her since." He pleaded with him, looking into his eyes.

Hans scoffed and headed towards the iron-barred door.

"Tell that to HER... Tell that to ME when every night I touch her, she speaks your name instead." He hissed.

Kristoff felt both deeply saddened and yet joyful that Anna longed for him. It was proof that he wasn't all alone, and that he wasn't the only one who had been suffering.

She didn't love this crook. She wasn't fooled by his charms or his lies, and although he was paying for it, he was glad that she at least could try and escape. That didn't change the fact that He was paying for it.

That didn't change the fact that Sven had paid for it.

"I'm not sorry." he muttered.

Hans hummed and then stormed away, down the dark, vacant halls.

"Of COURSE you aren't..." he spat.

XxXxXxXxX

Anna stared with a blank face as Hans split into a grin for a millionth time that night, as their two children, Olaf and Hetty, shared their stories of the day.

"And then you never found that fish? Well, I'm sure we'll probably smell where it is by the end of tomorrow!" He said with mock seriousness, and Hetty giggled, covering her mouth with her hands.

Olaf leaped up from his perch on a little stool and latched himself onto his father, snuggling his face into his warm looking fur coat. Hans rested his head on his and soothingly rubbed his back, whispering a reply to whatever muffled question the young boy had asked.

Anna sighed silently, and shuddered, thinking about what those hands were capable of, and what they had already done.

How wrong, it felt, to see those vicious fingers that twisted her flesh and dug their nails into her and curled into fists...unforgiving fists against her in all the places that clothing could hide the scars, the scrapes, and the bruises.

Those fingers, gently running through their daughter's hair as she clambered up into his lap to join the perfect little picture. He kissed their heads with that sick, horrible mouth and lips that curled and sneered and grinned wickedly at her, as he verbally assaulted her with chilling expertise.

If it weren't for all this... all this that she very well KNEW... it almost was as if their painting perfect family life had never ended. It was like they were still newly wed parents, learning to run the kingdom together and teaching their little boy how to walk, and talk, and read.

He had been named Olaf, after the snowman of course, but for fear of Hans' apparent hatred of the ice magic, she pretended it was just a neutral name that she came up with. She was now exceedingly glad that he would never know. The memory of the sun loving snowman should never be infiltrated with his poison and tainted.

The way he'd tainted her memories of Kristoff...

Olaf was now five and looked just like Hans, save those big blue eyes, and a smile that ALWAYS reached his eyes. He was so innocent, and inquisitive, and though he had a few personal differences with his faher, even at such a young age, Hans was truly a good father to him.

Hetty, only three, was a Papa's girl, and was always by his side during the days he spent at home. Often times they, Hans and Anna would joke that she'd take over the kingdom instead of Olaf, thanks to her always being by his side, as though to say that she was 'learning by example' and whatnot.

Now she couldn't help but see a false king, fooling a little girl into being his future pawn to use against her. Sure he hadn't thought of it yet.. or perhaps he had, but either way it was sure to happen. Soon in time, Olaf would be cast aside and thrown with her into the untouchable category and receive the brunt of his frustrations.

But for now, Anna felt more resentment towards her own children, that their existence alone could, for the moment, evoke such natural, and honest smiles from him.

They were warm, and real, and bright, and there was no malice or manipulation yet. It was almost like proof that he as still... HUMAN...

But then, he catches a glimpse of her from out his peripheral vision, his warm and sunny glow is soured and he grins darkly at her, holding the children closer to him and then turning his gaze back to them.

The idea of a perfect family was ruined in that moment and Anna let the tears fall. What was the point in trying anymore? Hans had won. He won everything; the kingdom, her virtue, the adoring kids, the power...

She only had memories, and fear. She shook and ran from the room, throwing herself into the room that used to be her childhood room...

She fell onto the bed and sobbed into the sheets for a good while. She curled under the covers and flipped around the pillow, hugging it, and nuzzling her tears away into its soft feathers.

She imagined her sister there, holding her and telling her how everything was going to be okay. That everything was better now, and that it'd all been a horrible dream. She imagines Kristoff there too... heaven only knew what he looked like now, five years on.

But he was there too, running up to her and joining in, and she snorted, knowing Elsa wouldn't be so touchy-feely in real life, nor would Kristoff be so keen on randomly running up an tackling someone into a hug. It didn't matter though, of course.

She rolled onto her back, the pillow still at her side and she inhaled deeply. It wasn't the first night she'd decided to sleep in this room instead of with Hans. He hadn't done a thing to stop her, which was pleasant for the most part.

She tried to get some sleep. From the moment she closed her eyes, a few minutes later, she didn't know how much time had passed by the time a little body was curled up against her side.

Olaf sighed into the fabric of her dress, warming a little patch of it. He hummed a merry sounding tune as he struggled to force himself under the blankets and slowly woke his sleeping mother.

She was a little disoriented but when her vision and senses clear, she spotted the little prince, struggling and giggled, a sudden fire of indescribable hope filling her chest.

He paused in his struggles and looked up at her in a way that was so uniquely 'Olaf' and then he grinned goofily, plopping down atop her, and then in his ever so quiet voice he chanted;

"Mama...Mama...Mama...Mama..."

She sighed and retorted, "What, what what, Olaf?" He pulled himself up to her ear with his arms and then, resting his mouth against her cheek, he squished his lips and asked, "Do you wanna build a snowman?"

Her heart fluttered and she gasped, recalling the way she'd begged her sister that way, so many times before.

"S-sweetheart, it's not even winter yet, and you know Papa won't let us even go near the snow..." she replied, sitting up and helping him under the covers.

Olaf frowned and then comically bashed his head against the mattress. The added warmth of the blankets, placed on top of them again caused his distress to melt away and then he squealed with glee and cuddled under her arm, using the pillow as a mattress.

"Fine then. But it's okay." He replied, "I like warm things better anyway."

Anna held him closer to her and agreed with a hum, before lulling him to sleep, singing softly about a magical snowman she once knew, who dreamed of summer.

"That's a silly snowman," He whispered before falling asleep, "He'll melt." he smiled.

Anna closed her eyes and rested her head above his on the pillow, a few fresh tears leaking out onto the white fabric.

"Well... some dreams are worth melting for." she said. Dreams, though sometimes outrageous and far away-seeming are never truly impossible. She dreamed of a world where everything was Summer, and just like Olaf the First, she would definitely melt for it, no matter how much it hurt.


	4. Time for changes

Years had passed... Only two, by now, but they had been long and unstable. Half the time, Anna was trying to find a way back into Hans' good books, and for a while she had been fooled that they were making progress, but time and time again she had been disappointed.

Hans was less physically abusive after the first few months passed, but the torture was never over. So far he had successfully turned her own daughter against her, and her only support was that of the darling Olaf, who would visit her in the night.

All the staff of her childhood had been slowly fired and replaced by other people who were colder and didn't understand her. Even Kai, their major domo had been forced to retire, but he was getting up on age anyway.

She missed him and Gerda the most. She missed Elsa, and Kristoff...

Anna ran the coarse fur through her fingers again and hummed, deep in thought. She lifted the mittens up and inspected them for a moment before placing them down and then picking up the boots, and coat and hat that had been fashioned from what appeared to be the same hide.

Hans flicked his attention back over to his wife as she stroked the fur on the hat, absent minded, and grinned as a thought came to mind.

He slowly sat up and approached the queen, lost so much in concentration that she almost screamed when he gently rested a hand on her shoulder. Her gaze soured and she pursed her lips, glaring up at the man who had made her suffer.

She recently made the discovery that she may be pregnant again and had gone without sleep for weeks due to the stress. She worried about how he would react, or if she would be able to handle another baby.

With the current circumstances surrounding their family, she was unsure if bringing a poor child into this world so full of fear, hatred and lies was a good idea.

She he placed a hand protectively over her belly for a moment and asked, "What do you want?"

Hans chuckled and grinned, kneeling down beside her and holding her hand above her abdomen, a faint glimmer... A ghost of the man he could have been, shining in his eyes for a moment as he focused on their hands there.

for a moment her heart fell and she wondered if perhaps this little nightmare would be over soon, as though there was hope for them...

He looked back up at her and the moment was yet again shattered, just like every other moment of false hope had been. A smug smirk made its greasy way onto his lips and his eyes darkened and he gently squeezed her hand.

"I see you've been keeping secrets from me." He said with mock seriousness.

Anna scoffed at the playful remark and scowled, looking away and ignoring him. He frowned a little and then stood up, and sighed.

"Anna, you know, I may have been ...out of line for a while now, and I know things have been difficult for us." He began, but with time although so little, Anna could see right through his little act.

She also had found out that he didn't like it very much when she called his bluff, and so she decided to give him her full attention as though to humor him. How long she would be able to keep it up was another question.

Conceal... She'd tell herself... Don't feel...

Elsa had made that look so simple. To just...NOT FEEL.

Seeing her shift her gaze, he wickedly grinned in the back of his mind, and then continued, his face a perfect piece of artwork, its features and details intricately laced into an impenetrable veil.

"Anna, I know we can start this thing over. You just need to give me a chance." He said.

Anna rolled her eyes, fed up already with this act. How dare he sit there and tell her he can change. This man was a BEAST... a true wolf in sheep's clothing.

"You never gave my SISTER a chance, you pig." She hissed, crushing the fur laden mittens beneath her fingers.

In the next few seconds she was terrified with her daring act. She considered running for the dor, or ducking, covering her face...

Her hands instinctively flew over her belly and the sickly, cold, shocks of horror flooded her systems as he abruptly stood up and over her.

He grit his teeth, eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled in detest. He scoffed at the way she covered her abdomen, truly insulted to know she thought he would dare harm his own unborn child. A demented urge to do it anyway to punish her came to mind but he shoved that aside, his focus turning to the way she gripped the reindeer skin clothing so close to her.

Delighted with this irony, he laughed and plucked the mittens from her grasp and slipped them on, relishing in the warmth of them, as though the lowly beast were still alive.

Anna flinched at the movement and began to tremble as she attempted to anticipate his next move.

He stepped back and then inspected the articles laid out on the bed beside them.

"They're quite impressive aren't they? I had them made myself." He bragged.

"I noticed." Anna relplied, almost giving into the false relief she was overcome waith due to the change in subject. She knew it was false relief though, he was too calm...too casual for this to be a legitimate opportunity to discuss clothing

"You know, I never thought reindeer to be essential..." He commented, chancing a few steps closer to her again as he picked up the other articles, absently,

"They're crude," he chuckled, "and unspeakably plain... However..."

He ran the back of his gloved hand over her cheek gently, letting the warmth of it embrace her cheek, before sharply smacking her clean across it, sneering venomously.

"I put THIS little old friend to good use, I have to say." He stated darkly.

She knew it. There had to be some kind of catch to this, but what she couldn't put her finger on. It wasn't until the way he spoke of 'this little old friend' sank in that a horrible jolt exploded within her.

Out from under his belt he tossed her a wad of cloth, and she shakily unfolded it, her entire body vibrating so much her joints hurt and she felt as cold as ice.

"AH!" She flung the items of of her hands and onto the floor, the blood stained gloves and hat were far too familiar for her liking and the was of cloth was recognised as a sash...

HIS hat... HIS gloves, and sash...

They lay on the floor, the crimson splatters devastatingly complimented by the red of the velvety carpets.

Hans laughed and stepped on them, particularly roughly and kicked them aside. He grabbed her arms with his wooly gloves and threw her to the ground, her head now resting next to the hat...the same one he tried to keep her warm with.

"No... NO!" She wailed, clutching the little things in her frail hands, and pressing them to her bleeding heart.

"KRISTOFF!" She sobbed.

Hans kicked her as she continued to carry on, suddenly afraid that she might attract unwanted attention. He fell to the floor and snatched up her throat in his hand and he cursed.

Anna squealed momentarily and then shuddered before falling silent. Her eyes flicked from the blood stained mittens, to the fur ones that gripped her, and she suddenly began to make the connection..

"wh-what did you...d-do?" She whimpered.

He sharply laughed, and replied, "The poor things served their purpose well...but it was time for them to retire, my sweet."

He let go and stormed out of the room, half satisfied, half pissed at the way the events had unfolded. No matter how much he tried he was never going to get her back on his side, so there was no point in being 'nice'... But no matter how much he loved to hear her wail and scream, and lament, it was never enough.

He'd just have to make a visit to his little pet down at the old asylum.

He didn't even notice the two little faces, recoiling in fear as he passed them by, watching him with held breath as he trudged down the hall.

Olaf was already in silent tears, his heart was beating faster than ever before, and he suddenly wondered if the same man who would play with him and hold him, and read to him everyday...was the same one who just walked away.

Hetty was more confused, wondering what her Mother did wrong. No one got treated that way unless something bad happened. She would know, since Olaf was always getting smacked for being too silly, or talking back, but at the same time, to see her mother lying on the floor like a dog, crying like that...

But her papa was a good man wasn't he?

Olaf af made sure the king was far, FAR from sight before bashing his way into the room, the now seven year old prince flung himself onto his mother and she sat up in shock, her own frantic sobbing quieting.

Hetty soon appeared behind him, her concern for her mother overriding any bias she held for her father.

Olaf fisted up her skirts in his hands and his head fell into her lap, while Hetty all but climbed on top of him to reach her mothers face.

"Oh, no..." Anna whispered. Although she hated his control and power, and the way he used them against her, she never wanted her children to see... They didn't deserve to be horrified and confused.

Most of all though, she feared that he would turn on THEM if they began to show any fear towards him. He hated losing control, and she didn't trust him, or know where his limits lay.

She grabbed up her son and daughter and tried to soothe them, unsuccessfully. The little family sat and cried of a while before they settled to set up camp, right next to the slowly dimming hearth.

Olaf was asleep in her lap now, and Hetty was wide awake, staring at the red marks covering Anna's face.

Anna rubbed her hands up and down her little girl, hoping to warm her up with the friction. She felt so cold...

"Mama, did you do something bad?" She asked quietly.

Anna sighed and shook her head, not ready to explain to her the adult world of jealousy and deceit.

"No, papa just does that when he gets really angry. He wouldn't do it to you..." She reassured her.

Hetty screwed up her face in doubt and then reached up to touch her mother's cheek, its cold quality soothing it.

Then suddenly, it began to get colder... And colder still..

Anna opened her eyes which she'd unconsciously closed in relaxation, to see little flecks of snow falling around them. She jolted up and the cold sensation remained in her face, even though she had disconnected from Hetty's hand.

Hetty smiled and a patch of frost shrank into her hand. The snow ceased and the warmth returned to her daughter.

"It's cool huh?" She whispered.

Great... Anna thought... Just great.

She inhaled deeply and then with a sigh, she woke up her son.

"Come on you guys. I think it's finally time you knew." She said. They took her hands and she lead them away from the room, the bloodied mittens and hat lying on the floor still. She would be back to hide them away later, but now she would have to come clean to her children.

About Elsa, and Arendelle freezing, and even about Kristoff. With Hetty showing signs of those powers, Hans wouldn't be the only person to turn on her. Fear would overcome her, even if she seemed to have a pretty decent grasp on them right now... it would be inevitable.

She only hoped that what she could teach them, would be able to help them cope with the lives they would soon have to lead. Neither of them, Olaf nor Hetty would be able to look at their father the same again though.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Freezing cold, the dull throbbing feeling of his blood returning to his head, Kristoff blankly stared at the walls of his new cell. After he tried to kill himself again, Hans had decided to change things up a bit.

He was confined to a smaller walking distance, and had closely linked wrist cuffs, which would be impossible to choke himself with. There were no windows or fixtures to hang himself with, and unless he suddenly decided to revoke his newfound acceptance of defeat it would appear that even starving himself was out of the question.

Two years broke his spirit. He had no more desire to escape and no longer wished to live. He was just waiting for the days to get shorter and for his life to end, but it never came.

Well, maybe there was a degree of will power still inside him. He hadn't the bravery or the strength to actually seriously try to take his own life. Most times that he'd tried, ended in him backing out.

Who was he to do something like that? He was lucky he still had a chance. No matter how slim, it was still there.

Sven didn't have a chance to escape. He would have wanted Kristoff to keep fighting.

"Kristoff, why are you sad?" He asked himself, simulating his buddy's voice.

He shrugged and replied, "Well it's been a little rough, Sven. Now I don't even have a bed." He laughed dryly at the pile of soiled hay that he refused to sleep on.

"But you're still alive. Stop trying to hurt yourself, please" he pleaded.

His breath hitched and he hung his head as faint footsteps echoed from the stairs to the left.

"I'll try, buddy...I promise." He breathed.


	5. His mother's son

"Hans... I..." Anna tried to think of something to say but nothing came to her mind. She shakily stooped down and joined him on the soggy, wet grass.

The wind blew so cold, and the microscopic droplets of mist, taunting them, foretelling another rain that night. She shivered as the moisture beneath her began to seep up and through her many skirts and she studied a similar phenomenon occurring in her husbands pants, the once white fabric was practically bruised with green and brown smears from having knelt in the grass for hours now.

He had no life, his eyes just staring, unblinking and dull. His face was chapped by the wind and cold and his breathing was steady and slow.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered hoarsely. Anna was confused for a moment, but it was unimportant at the moment. She didn't need to understand, or to know which one of them he was apologising to; Her, or their stillborn's grave.

"I'm so sorry..." He choked, touching the little stone and trembling. He was so weak and destroyed, and she couldn't help but reach out to hold his hand as the fog engulfed them further.

Their daughter had been born dead, and he had been there and had seen. Anna hadn't been allowed to see the poor thing. He had forbade she be forced to suffer the way he did.

It was the greatest act of humanity she had been blessed with by him for what seemed like forever. He loosely gripped her fingers and he spoke slowly again, rubbing circles into the back of her hand, "I did this to you. Both of you... I don't deserve to be alive." He stated sourly.

He stood up and broke their contact. She almost wanted to scold him for such hateful words towards himself, but behind the grief and the sudden forced equality between them, he WAS still the man who had chosen to make her suffer and stress, and who had murdered an innocent man and his companion out of jealousy and rage.

This had been his karma, and though she had felt the loss too, it just was simply fate and no one could change it. Perhaps that was why she found it difficult to be as upset or disturbed as he was. She felt almost guilty that she was glad it had died...glad wasn't the right word, but relieved perhaps.

"I don't know what to say, Hans." She replied.

He suddenly glared at her, catching a whiff of the pure indifference in her tone. His usual, fiery edge was subdued by the thickening moisture in the air, but his face ran as red as his hair. He pressed his lips into a hard line and narrowed his eyes at her silently.

"I'm sorry too." She said. She stood up and briskly walked away.

He would get her for that, she knew, but for now she didn't care. She didn't feel so bad about either, now.

XxXxXxXxXxX

-Two Years Later-

Olaf sighed and stared at his notes with contempt. He hated studying.

The warm and inviting sunlit day, a beautiful summer afternoon was calling to him. Its honey coloured rays tickled his freckled arms and the faint ghost of a breeze squeezed its way through the crack in the window.

He sighed once more and laid his head in his arms on his desk and stared out with half lidded eyes at the green and yellow blur below where often a day he'd romp with their two pet dogs, and just smell the flowers and the grass, and the open skies would be there, pulling his soul up higher and higher...

He didn't belong inside this room, or indoors at all. He wasn't a future king, who'd grow up to be cold and dull, and disappointed with all that existed. He wouldn't be his father anyway, and with all his heart, Olaf disagreed with everything his father proposed he do.

He shot up and flipped through his pages frantically as the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, the door creaked open and his heartbeat rose into his throat and the sunlight suddenly had him sweating.

Hans hummed and noticed that the pen and ink well were still in the same position as they had been last time, and that no nine year old could be possibly reading German at the ridiculous speed that his son was flipping around the pages.

He almost snorted when the actions slowed, and eventually the little prince ceased his frantic faking. His head lolled to the side and then dropped onto the desk, a whiny grunt sound emitting from his throat.

"Olaf." Hans stated.

The boy shrieked in a way reminiscent of a frightened piglet, and he accidentally spilled the ink well. Swatting the papers off the table to avoid the growing puddle of ink, he splashed his hand through the sticky substance and the pages were slapped and smacked around, with gloppy hand prints adorning them.

Hans could actually see the metaphorical cauldron slowly beginning to over oil and sputter within his brain but decided that he didn't feel like hitting his only son with a chair today for ruining his father's favorite poetry collection.

He knew he had other copies of them, yes, but those ones had been hand written by himself when he was younger, learning to speak the language.

In an attempt to motivate him he'd extracted them for that purpose, and clearly all that talk had gone in one ear and out the other. Then again, this was the bumbling, obnoxious, socially unacceptable Olaf, who like his mother didn't know when to shut her mouth, stop eating, or pay attention.

Unlike his mother however Hans wasn't game to beat him into submission so easily.

Olaf stared horrified at the mess he had created, and his arm shook as he tried to wipe off the ink and began to stain and ruin his clothing.

Hans huffed and rubbed his forehead roughly, closing his eyes, "Olaf, why are you so utterly stupid?" He spat, unable to contain ALL of his helpless rage.

The young prince winced and shrank towards the window for a moment, glancing outside to the world he wished to be in. He looked back to his father who stood there with crossed arms and an unimpressed expression to top every expression of the like that he'd been faced with that week.

"I'm really sorry, about the... The stuff..." He gestured to literally the whole room with his inky hand and then hugged himself.

Hans rolled his eyes and his fingers ran through his greying hair. He took a good look at the rest of the room and was completely beside himself at the utter devastation that occurred in the small room between seven in the morning and noon exactly.

"Just wash your hands immediately, and forget about the lessons. You'll just look stupid when the future king and queen of Corona have to have someone translate for you instead of being able to speak to them directly. You'll make a fool of yourself and the public will think you're some ignorant who doesn't think learning another language to be an efficient or necessary skill. That's a really great image of our kingdom you've got planned there, my dear." He ranted and raved, pacing back and forth and picking up the ruined pages, crumpling them with regret.

Olaf whimpered a little, for he was never truly able to accustom himself to the verbal lashings he'd receive whenever he failed to live up to the standards and expectations that had been set for him.

It it was a reminder how the whole entire WORLD was pretty much watching him, and trying to force him to be something that although he knows they NEED... It isn't what he wants to be at all.

"I-I I'm sorry, papa, I..." Hans glared at him in disbelief for a few seconds before shaking his head and standing up straight.

Olaf sniffled and pressed his back against the window.

Hans hated this part the most about having such differences with his only son. He hated it...he hated this fear that radiated from his very being. He could see it in his eyes and feel it coming off him. He knew, and he absolutely despised it.

"Olaf..." He began, calmly, "It's okay. You don't need to be perfect, and I know things can be difficult... But it's very important that you learn these things. They're all essential parts of running a kingdom..."

Olaf scowled and looked away, a hint of sorrow present in the way he screwed up his face and squeezed his arms tighter to hug himself. His eyes gazed longingly out the window...

"I don't want to be the king. I wasn't born to be one." He boldly stated.

In all honesty, Hans had seen that one coming ten years away. However, what would the people think if his child were deemed incapable of ruling the very kingdom he was born to lead?

"Of course you were BORN to do it... You just don't want to, and unfortunately there isn't any getting out of it." He retorted, an edge seeping into his voice.

Olaf wasn't so easily persuaded. The fear had left his posture and aura and was replaced by something that Hans hated even more; defiance.

He stood up straight and looked him dead in the eye, "I don't want to, because I CANT." He declared.

Hans was running out of patience. He screamed in frustration and smacked his forehead, tugging at his hair for a good moment.

Olaf didn't shrink back like he normally would. Today was a different day from the rest, he'd wasn't going anywhere good, and it wasn't ever going to change.

He had to come clean about it eventually.

His father approached him more aggressively this time, and stooped over him menacingly, a finger poking roughly into his chest, "I just don't get the the HELL is wrong with you! When I was your age I never even DREAMED I'd be a king someday!" He cried.

"I was thirteenth...THIRTEENTH in line for that god forsaken throne, and no one would ever, EVER acknowledge me!" He pushed off of his son and sharply spun around to face the doorway and then paced back around again.

"And then here's you... Little prince Olaf, the defiant hooligan who would rather spend his time wallowing in the mud like a DOG than be a king..." He continued.

Suddenly, unable to contain it any longer, he lunged at him, but Olaf was quicker. He in latched the window with such expertise, it was nearly criminal, and then flung himself from the third story.

Hans screamed for a moment, completely overcome by horror, replacing his rage. He shot his upper body out the window to search for where his son had landed...

Olaf smirked from above him, having launched off the window sill and then pulled himself up onto the roof.

"The thing is, Hans..." He said, his bravery and act of daring causing him to break his perfect little prince facade once and for all, "I don't care what you were like, or how you want me to be. I'm just not like you."

He stalked off and leaped off onto a lower balcony, and then slid down another rooftop, and landed in the branches of a tree, as though by second nature.

Hans trembled and stared long and intensely at the defiant, disrespectful, air headed fool and could only wonder how it possibly was that they were related.

He scoffed and slammed the window shut, the glass cracking and spider-webbing in all directions just like the thin, thin ice on which Olaf once stood.

"Clearly his mother's son..." He hissed.


	6. Where we belonged once

Henricka wasn't a dull or boring person so to speak, and at the age of only eight you'd expect her to be spunky at the least which she was for the most part. Then again when your older brother is Olaf its... Different.

"I told you," she sighed, "the horses hate you. You just can't keep trying Laffy..." She yawned and hunched over on the haystack she'd sat down on about ten minutes ago. Her brother went flying through the air and landed comically next to her, head first, arms and legs wriggling around in the crunchy golden stuff.

She coughed and spat out the huge handful that he accidentally shoved into her mouth, and ducked under to avoid another swing of his hand which was oddly black-tinted.

Olaf finally found his way out of the hay, but in a way so that his head was out of one side, and then his backside was hanging out the other.

Hetty would have laughed if it hadn't been for the fact that her newly curled hair was covered in hay, and her dress was sporting a few holes and runs from his ordeal.

He laughed obnoxiously, snorting as he did, and Hetty glowered at him. She sat up hastily and kicked some hay straight into his open mouth and stormed away.

"Its no WONDER they'll be asking ME to take over Arendelle. The kingdom would only be embarrassed by you." She called back.

Her brother's heart sank and he didn't even bother to spit out the hay in his mouth as he watched her go. Her pale green clad hips swishing furiously and her hands balled into tight fists, in the fashion she normally stormed away from him.

She looked like her dad, the way he'd glower at him with the utmost disappointment and then stalk away, hurriedly and angrily. She stole a glance back at him and shook her head, looking up to the high heavens as she made a right into the castle.

"Pitiful..." Her lips mouthed and Olaf finally spat out the hay and hung his head.

"Why does everyone hate me?" He silently lamented.

As if to accentuate his already foul circumstances, the same horse who had bucked him off into the haystack decided that now would be a good time to kick him square in the rump with one hoof.

He yelped and scrambled his way out of the hay and limped over to follow his sister into the castle, but its not like he belongs there though.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Kristoff stared at the strange engravings on the floor that had been left there long before his stay there.

They didn't say anything really interesting in particular, and he actually wondered who would have the time to seriously engrave a bunch of gibberish in ancient runes in the floor.

He read it out loud, and then twisted up his face, the sound of the words feeling wrong on his tongue and the pronunciation probably horribly off. Then again he never had anyone to really help him find out how things were pronounced anyway. He'd usually read a word one way for years before finding out he had been pronouncing it wrong.

It also didn't help that he could only read in runes, not in the currently popularly used symbols. The trolls could only teach him as much since they too hadn't been exposed to such modernisations.

His is breath hitched and his face felt hot as he recalled his family whom he'd been forced away from. If Sven wasn't bad enough, now he didn't even have his family to go to. His mother probably though he was dead. He'd lost his crystal necklace to Hans who had made some comment about how crude it was.

That was a special piece of home that kept him spiritually connected with the trolls. They would know if he is in trouble when he wore it, and he'd been able to understand the animals and beings of nature with it. He hadn't ever thought he'd miss it so much.

He let some tears fall to the absurd gibberish on the floor and touched them with a sore finger, tracing the rune that would normally be the first symbol in his name.

"Mom..." He choked, remembering her teaching him how to read and write. They had started with his name and hers, Bulda.

Sure, it had been a bit odd, growing faster than the other trolls, and being the odd one out in plenty of games, or activities the other troll kids would participate in, but his mom knew how to tear them a new one when he'd be feeling especially cheated out.

He only cried harder in place of where he would normally laugh as he recalled the one time she told HIM off for throwing his cousin Rubble off of his perch as revenge for bruising his back. He had fit into the palm of his hand and he'd rolled him like a bowling ball, straight into the center of the sanctuary, down the crudely cut steps.

Hed never forget the hilarious successions of "OH NO, OH NO, OH NO, OH NO," he'd heard as the young troll realised he'd been rolled, which was actually seriously against the rules to do to each other.

He had almost gotten away with it too, but anyway...

He sniffled and sat up gently, minding his bruised and broken body and then scooted away from the painful reminders.

"Kristoff?" He asked himself in Sven voice, "You think Anna's okay?"

He sighed, grateful for the less painful distraction.

"I don't know, but from the conversations Hans and I have been having it sounds like Anna is the least of his problems... She isn't suffering as much it would seem. Not anymore anyway." He replied.

"Yeah," he replied, "all he does is blame you for his kids not being perfect."

He snorted with contempt and rolled his eyes.

"Must you always talk to yourself?" Hans stated, making his presence known.

He panicked and sat back too quickly. He fell backwards and hit his head against the stone wall relatively hard, and then fumbled around a little as he attempted to regain a stable position.

Hans stared blankly at him for a moment or two before throwing open the door of his cell, and preparing his leash.

Krisroff glared at the object and followed its every movement in his hands. He was being moved again, and this time he felt as though the room in which he'd land would be twice as bad as this one.

Usually he would bring extra guards who were in on the secret and have him escorted there, but none were apparently present.

Did Hans actually trust him not to run away? No, there had to be another reason.

"This cell is to be used for an actual prisoner. The premises are surrounded at the moment due to his dangerous nature. Don't ask me any questions and keep your eyes to the ground or I'll drop vinegar into them." He directed.

This was going to be fun, Kristoff thought. He looked down as he was told, and his eyes lingered on the runes for a moment and then he sighed, ready to be taken away.


	7. This wicked winter

"Well," Hans huffed out, finally losing his composure as the irritable dignitary before him sneered for the fifth time, "If you dislike the way i've decided to handle things then I suppose you would rather we cease all trade?" He spat.

The man, he was an older one and thus harder to convince, sputtered and stood up straight from his seat, tossing up the paper before him in frustration and his fellow countrymen hastily tried to ease their comrade.

"Now you listen here, you spoiled little twit!" He hollered.

He lunged at the young king, but the guards were faster, leaping into action. In his shock, Hans had toppled backwards in his chair and the rest of the guards not containing the furious dignitary were running to his aid.

Anna suddenly decided that it was time to adjourn the meeting as she silently dismissed everyone with a nod of her head. It looked like they wouldn't be getting anywhere with the kingdom of Lorelei any time soon, which was a shame.

The kingdom, just west off the coast of Denmark, was the first human civilization to make contact and hold equal laws with a mermaid community. She, Anna, had visited them earlier in the year for the first and only time she'd ever gotten to travel overseas and away from Hans.

Ariel was so wonderful, and so happy with Eric, and her sisters had been so kind and cheerful looking, poking up from the waves as their ship was lead to the safest docks. All that seemed like it was eons away in the past.

She knew they'd be devastated that such things had become of their once neutral ties, and she could only hope they'd be able to fix this mishap up as soon as possible.

She had so little friends, and neither did her two children. She knew Princess Melody and Henricka could have gotten along so well too...

She silently watched as everyone left the room, leaving Hans and herself all alone in the horribly tense atmosphere. She glanced at him and her heart fell. She didn't like him, no, not one bit. She bore too many scars, real and emotional to truly love him, but as far as government went he really did seem to be trying.

Maybe in another world, in another time she could have loved him and held him and assured him that he was doing the right thing. If only she didn't have that longing...

She sighed and looked outside the window, peering up at the north mountain, a place that was now forbidden for people to venture towards. A place where a very special spirit roamed free, with his best friend by his side, forever. One with the wind, and sky... but never to be with her again. Ever. In any way at all.

Hans sighed and threw the closest chair as he stormed out of the room, "Anna, that meeting wasn't over yet. I'll have you sit out the next one if you're going to undermine my authority." he growled as he slammed the door shut.

She looked down to the slightly tarnished floor, inspecting the frayed ends of the rug on which the table stood and wept a little. Even when she tried to help him she could never make him happy.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Olaf had been rather insufferable in the past few years, following his episode with the poetry. Hans had noticed a very obvious change in loyalties, and in attitude as his son slowly transformed into a rebellious hooligan, running off and causing utter havoc in the town centre, and in the castle.

He simply couldn't be tied down, and he couldn't be left to run wild, and as a father he was at his wits end. As a king he would normally have such a defiant and dangerously rebellious pest handled quicker than one could bat an eye, but he struggled internally with this ordeal.

He constatnly wanted him to be loved by the boy. He was constantly wishing that he'd drop dead too. He just didn't know what to do anymore, and the lack of control and order was tearing him up from the inside.

He hated how whenever he dared to glance the prince's way, a wicked glare and sometimes a cocky smile would flicker to life and then something horrible would happen.

And for all the reasons he HAD to simply lock him up and drop him in the nearest asylum for the mentally unstable, none of them were good enough. There was not enough evidence, or there wasn't a severe enough crime committed.

Aged only ten it had begun, and now just a few years on he was nearing his thirteenth birthday and the boy had a bleak future set out before him. Gone were the hopes of a new king, and gone were the days where that perfect prince would walk by his side.

He wasn't his son anymore. He was just a scrap of life that had been thrown to him to torment him for all his sins, and although it was rightfully so, he refused to accept that he deserved the cold looks and acts of mayhem that he received.

"Olaf?" he cautiously began, rapping his knuckles against the boy's room door.

"What's the password?" a painfully cheery voice chorused.

"Olaf, open this door." Hans demanded calmly, rattling the locked handle as though to emphasize his request's urgency.

"Nope. No can do. Sucks to be you." He chuckled, a large unidentifiable item thumped against the door, causing Hans to stand back a little, startled by the noise.

A dragging sound became audible as another something was slowly, deliberately pulled and scraped against the sure to be scarred wooden floors and anther thump was heard.

Hans suddenly made the realisation that he was being barricaded out of the room before he'd even had a chance to consider knocking it down.

He screamed with the hottest of furies and smashed himself up against the door, hissing and cursing that he open up.

"It's no use Hans, I don't let big bad wolves in like those other little piggies." he chucked, tarnishing yet another childhood memory of long nights, and warm bed with fairy tales being read aloud.

He nearly cried as his will power began to fade under the amused laughter of his only son as he tried to enter the room. Flashbacks of older brothers and cold nights, begging to be let inside by the fire came to his mind, and the way he'd shiver and freeze...

Oh, how he hated the cold. He loathed it. The winter was coming, and he could tell, by the grey skies and the dropping temperature, but there was another winter that was already in full force, and raging within him as he slumped to the ground, defeated by a mere child.

"How can you be so cold to me?" He choked out, daring to lay out his true emotions, just out of desperation.

"All I ever did was love you, Olaf!"

A long and agonising silence ensued before a muffled voice broke through the many layers of wood and paint, "How can you be so cruel to my mother. How can you be so cold yourself? You want the warmth of love, but you can't truly enjoy the summer with a frozen heart, now can you, Your majesty?" He stated, with a tone of voice and a sense of cynicism and hatred far beyond his years.

"I know what you did..." He hissed, a flurry of fear assaulting his heart and he froze still, listening for more...

"Did... what?" he asked cautiously. There were many things he had 'done'... namely killing the previous queen on purpose, abusing his mother for everything he possibly could find the time for, turning them against her to further her suffering and then there was.. Kristoff...

"Everything. Arendelle doesn't need you. WE don't need you. You never deserved us."

Hans didn't reply but simply hung his head.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Kristoff cursed louder than he had in quite a while as the whip cracked straight over his left eye, from around the side of his head. He was torn and bleeding in several places now, and the wildly furious, and completely savage king was still not yet satisfied.

He hollered in his native language as a sharply tossed punch found its way into his side, and the force threw him against the wall, his head colliding with the metal bolts that held the chain connected to his neck.

In this cell he had full hand shackles, chained to the center of the floor. the wall had been fitted with a metal plate and chain which would connect to his now-ill-fitting collar. He had lost so much weight in his stay down in these cold and unforgiving dungeons that the once tight fitting band of metal now was nothing but a mere necklace on his gradually thinning neck.

A lash across his back left spatters of blood all over the wall and floor which was suspiciously stained with a dark black, almost red. His bare feet were tread on and his frozen toes told a million tales of agony and woe as they were smashed against the ground by a fur clad foot.

He had long since quit asking why he was being beaten, or if it was really necessary. He had just learned to accept it. It was almost sickening how normal it now felt to be lashed, and scarred and throttled this way.

The occurrence was normal, and he was used to it but that didn't make it hurt less. Hans was very skilled in his beatings, and he had learned over time what really hurt and what wasn't worth trying again, and no thanks to Kristoff's inability to conceal his true emotions. He wasn't able to mask his pain or his fear and agony.

He was so honest, and open and plain. He was infuriating to Hans. It was all his fault, ALL of it!

"My, WIFE..." He cracked the whip, "My KINGDOM... MY ONLY SON!" He leaped down onto the crippled heap and crushed his head against the wall, crushing his knuckles into the afflicted eye and twisting, grinding, crushing into it.

"No...no, PLEASE!" He cried, trying to jerk his head away from the vicious attack but to no avail.

Hans shoved off of him and spat into one of the more grizzly lash wounds, and then breathed, "you are the bane of my existence."

If he hadn't existed, Anna would still be his, there would be no fighting, and there would be no winter... it was just hopeless...

He had spent so many years, trying to crush them, to stamp out their hopes and dreams, and spirits, it was evident that his own was not even there any longer.

"Rough day, huh?" Kristoff bitterly, sarcastically growled, nursing his eye, and shuddering. There would be a servant sworn to silence who would come down and cleanse his wound to ensure he wasn't blessed with death, and his eye was probably lost.

Hans kicked a nearby bucket into him and then screamed, tears of fury and sorrow bursting forth at the same time. He shook violently and then left the cell.

Kristoff grimaced and then once he knew the king had left the vicinity he slowly, carefully crawled over to the heavily boarded up window where through the cracks in the decaying wood he could spot tiny flecks of civilisation outside.

A tiny little breeze stung his bleeding eye. How he longed for the freedom. But from the way his tormentor was acting lately, he had begun to wonder if it was worse out there than in here.

XxXxXxXxX


	8. A sacrifice

It's funny how the world seems to play in slow motion in one's mind when things are about to go severely wrong.

One minute Olaf was just teasing his sister, mocking her seriousness and defying her pleas for him to come down from his ridiculously high perch up in the rafters of the room.

He didn't intend for the beam to break. He didn't intend for the suit of armor to come clamoring down, several chairs falling to the floor... He didn't intend for Henricka to rush to the bookcase to steady it before it too could fall, only to have the beam fall almost on top of her.

XxXxXxXxX

Hans heard a massive commotion going on upstairs, and he closed his worn book with a heavy groan, glaring once at his sleeping wife and then rolling lazily out of his bed to see what his...no, what HER son was doing.

He didn't stop to consider who it may be, nd he didn't have to. No one was game to mess with his rule, or so he'd imagined. No one except for the little brat upstairs who was no doubt breaking extremely valuable artefacts and ruining furniture.

He shivered as he stepped out into the chilly air, and cursed. His bare feet protested and ached from the chill on the wooden floors, and he almost struggled, almost slipped.

He didn't watch where he was stepping, already halfway up the stairs when he actually did slip and he cried out, his heart pounding, and he flailed his arms about, trying to grasp the banister as he slid down the ice coated stairs...

ICE!

He grappled onto a wooden pillar connected to the spiralling banister and shuddered, staring at it, GLARING at the wretched substance, willing it to melt with his mind, and begging the heat of his fury to be sufficient enough to accomplish the feat.

He slowly followed the trail as it inched further down the stairs and down the walls, a sickly crackle ringing through the air in several places.

It it was coming from above, and his eyes flicked up, he stilled his heavy panting and he searched frantically for the source, hoping to spot it in the dull blue moonlight shining through the castle.

there was no sign of where it came from, but he knew it was coming from upstairs. A sinking feeling entered his gut as he began to assume things. It was cold, and dark and quiet and his whole life he'd been conditioned to associate these types of setting with ultimate betrayal and devastation.

He probably had every right to assume what came next.

XxXxXxXxX

Olaf skidded over to his unconscious sister. In order to stop the beam from killing her, Hetty had fired a shield of ice, but the force of it threw her back, and she hit her head. Her ice magic was spiralling out of control, and without her being awake, the chances of her being caught were so high.

He whimpered in a panic, in a way he hadn't in years, and he internally screamed, throwing himself over her, checking her heart and trying to wake her up.

"Wake up.. wake UP! Please, please please..." He begged, his tears falling to her and freezing upon contact. He tried to muffle his voice as a desperate wail escaped his throat. He stoked her hair and face and quietly promised her he'd be more careful.

He promised her he'd listen more, and that he wouldn't mock her anymore, and that he wouldn't say and do things that were stupid or foolish, and that he'd give her all his books and even stop trying to tame the horses that hated him so much.

"Please ...wake up. I'm sorry... I..." He shivered and held her closely as he could, nuzzling her and begging this to all be a bad dream, foolish as that may be.

"Olaf..." A deep, rumbling, spiteful growl roused him from his sobbing. He froze and tensed, eyes wide and listening...had he imagined that?

A swift kick to his side, shoving him away from his sister came landing from behind. Another once smashed him against the wall, and he screamed in pain, having never experienced abuse like this before.

"N-NO, P-PLEASE!" he cried, trying to scramble out from under his fathers foot, avoiding his face with his eyes.

From within his peripheral vision, the ten-thousand-percent hatred filled sneer and glare combo was enough to stop his heart forever if he looked at it too long. The vital organ in mention was working over time and he squirmed as his father only applied more pressure to his chest.

"Please.." He begged, his eyes darting over to Henricka, "I-it was an accid-dent..." He whispered.

"HAH!" His father laughed, manically, and kicked his former son across the floor, skidding alongside the wall.

Before he had a chance to crawl away his father leapt on top of his and flopped him over to stare into his eyes. He grasped his hair and yanked it sitting up and pulling the boys head back, his other hand pressing him up against the wall.

"Ice..." Hans breathed, his breath coming out like smoke puffs, his panting made clear. Every breath was filled with some kind of spiritual poison, as the ghostly whisps of breath billowed and curled out of his nostrils and in between his barred, snarling teeth.

Olaf could see what it was that was going on. Hans thought that he, OLAF, had struck his sister down with the ice. His eyes widened and he tried to shake his head, but his attempts to do so only falsely confirmed Hans's suspicions even further.

He chuckled, deeply and eerily like his initial line, and he leant in closer, rested his mouth next Olaf's ear.

"Now I see...now I get it," he whispered, as though he'd just had the biggest breakthrough of the century.

"No, you don't..." Olaf stopped mid sentence as he recalled the story his mother had told her about what happened to the last ice user.

The former ruler, Queen Elsa, had accidentally frozen the whole kingdom. After his mother failed to return the summer, since her sister didn't know how to control the powers, his father had slain her in 'cold blood' you could say.

There were tales and stories that her body had been left there out of fear and then her body had decayed into ice, melting and being absorbed into the floor, with her own blood. He didn't want to see his sister like that...

No, he would take it instead. When she'd wake up, she would know how to reverse the ice and all would be better. Even if it meant...

"No? Oh you foolish boy... Then WHAT exactly is that?" He dragged him to his feet by the hair and threw him down towards his sister.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?" He hollered, a few guards bursting in to investigate the commotion. They all gasped in horror at the sight of the fallen princess, their king was towering over the young culprit.

Hans glanced at them and then down at Olaf, an idea blooming in his mind.

"Well?" He continued, "tell us! There's no point in lying to us now, Olaf!" He declared, regaining some composure.

Olaf winced because he KNEW that his father was going to get his way. He HATED letting Hans win, but he loved Hetty more. He trembled and stood up, but was knocked to the ground by Hans again.

He glared at him disbelievingly for a second before shaking his head and getting up again. He stood to face him and fiddled with his shirt, looking away...

"It was really an accident. I didn't mean to...to..." He stammered out.

"To what?!" His father stepped forward, the guards slowly congregating around him. They were his 'personal' guards, Olaf noted. All of them were down right asses and cared more for fighting and glory than protecting their family.

"You didn't mean to freeze your sister? IS THAT IT?" Hans waved at her limp body, losing his cool, a few tears threatening his bold facade as he briefly took in the sight of it, before shaking it away.

"FIX IT!" He demanded, pointing his finger into his sons chest, "UNFREEZE HER NOW!" He ordered.

Olaf's eyes grew wide and he felt his knees weaken into a brutal shake. He stuttered and babbled unintelligibly as he tried to come up with an excuse. He hadn't anticipated that he'd be given the choice to unfreeze her. He didn't think Hans would let him live so easily.

Then again, he noted, it probably wasn't him who he wanted alive. He needed Olaf to 'unfreeze' Henricka so that she might live, and then...THEN he would kill him.

He inhaled deeply, and looked him in the eye again, "I.. I can't. " he admitted, "I don't know how."

Hans was silent. He exhaled heavily, his breath feeling lost to him, and he looked away aimlessly. He was very obviously lost, and even a hint of despair could be seen in his eyes, and the way his face crinkled in the right places, painting a portrait of agonising loss.

He caught Olaf studying his face, emotionlessly, and his sorrow dissipated, he straightened his back and sneered at him, "Of COURSE you don't know how... How could I have been stupid enough to ask?" He hissed,

He whirled around and then addressed his men, "restrain him. Take him to the front gates and wait for me there. Two of you, keep guard over my daughter and keep her warm at all costs."

He he turned to glare at his former son and then hissed, "And if you even THINK about trying to get out of this," he stooped over and grabbed him by the collar, dragging him close so he had to whisper, "I will personally murder your mother...IN FRONT OF YOU!" He grinned.

Hans had by now pieced together a mental web of clues and events... Most of which all lead to one thing.

As he lead the guards out and into the woods, far above the kingdom of Arendelle, Hans pondered and let those toxic thoughts ferment in his mind.

It all started with Anna suddenly being obsessed with the ice. He at the time had assumed this was some form of loving for Kristoff, but then shortly afterward their son suddenly began to act terrified around him.

Olaf had slowly become closer with his mother, sleeping by her side and running to her out of nowhere every time she'd lament, or cry too loudly. He'd probably seen a lot of the violence and could have easily sided with her for being the victim.

This is is what Hans thought at the time as well.. He glared at the tied up and shivering form, who was being oddly and yet conveniently cooperative as they headed up further north.

If Anna had know about the powers, which she MUST HAVE... She would have warned Olaf about using them and told him about Elsa. That was why he 'knew what he did'... It all made so much more sense. The rebellion, the hatred, the defiance, the favoritism...

Olaf and Henricka hadn't always gotten along either. Hetty was always siding with Hans, and Olaf would take the defence of Anna each time something would happen. Anna...

He grit his teeth and flicked the reins, hard, as he came to the very last part of his own conclusion, explaining the events...

Anna must have TOLD him to do that. It seemed legitimate. Raised the boy to hate him, and helped conceal his powers so that one day he would be able to preform the dirty work of getting rid of him and his only loyal child, so that they might be rid of them.

Fair enough of a reason, sure, but he was just so PISSED that it had almost WORKED.

Olaf in the meantime just stared blankly. He knew his father was probably thinking up a million and one reasons to explain this. He knew that when Hetty would wake up, she would unfreeze her own magic and Hans would go back to loving her unconditionally again.

His mother would probably be sad. He could on,y hope that she would understand his sacrifice. He had long ago accepted that he was very likely going to die today. He couldn't help but sniffle a little as he caught sight of the northern lights, glittering and glimmering above the trees.

It would be his thirteenth birthday tomorrow. He wouldn't even get to see it. He had planned a whole day of rule abiding, and quality time with his mother, and a silent afternoon of sitting by her side, watching her sew or reading silently alongside her.

He'd even planned on sparing Hans for once, and treating him with a little more respect. Thirteen was a big deal, as it meant he was even closer to being an adult than before, and had to start being mature like one. He knew he wouldn't have been good at 'growing up' but he'd at least thought about it.

They hit a strangely harsh bump and he jolted painfully around, his wrists were bound, as well as his feet. He only hoped his sacrifice would get his mother spared.

He could only hope Hans didn't start thinking his mother had anything to do with the ice. He was depending on it in fact. His soul would never rest in peace if he knew that his act of selflessness to save his sister resulted in the death of his mother.

Hans... Had looked so sickly, disgustingly, HAPPY when he spoke of killing her. He sniffled again, shutting his eyes as they came to a halt.

three or four men grabbed him roughly and pulled him out of the sleigh. They were in the snow, they had gone up so far. Olaf hated the cold like nothing one could ever imagine, but he took the temperature, full forced and didn't care.

Hans hopped off his horse and motioned for the men to stay still.

"You stay here. I'll go and rouse it, and then when I come back, we drop him here and leave him to its mercy." He growled quietly.

Olaf tried not to show his utter horror and fear as those words sank in...

He wasn't just going to have his throat slit, or be tossed into a gorge...they were leaving him to the mercy of...a creature...

Hans turned quickly and hurried off, quietly and Olaf followed his form. However when he looked up and saw the huge, towering, powerfully glowing and majestic palace that stood before them, he was immediately lost to reality.

Hans carefully and slowly made his way up the precarious ice stairs, and glanced briefly at the spot at which he'd nearly died.

That wretched snowman was most likey still here. He had heard the urban legends about the 'abominable snowman' that roamed the north mountain and its forests and gorges, terrorising unwelcome visitors and making of with wildlife.

He stepped carefully onto the landing, and then knocked at the door. Once. Twice. Thrice...

A shuddering quake rang through the earth and a deep, otherworldly war cry began to sound as the doors creaked open.

Hans made like the wind down the stairs with effortless grace, and then bolted through the snow and signalled to the crew,

"OKAY, NOW! DROP HIM!" He called as the creature burst forth, Olaf screamed so loud that his voice might have been worthy of out shining the volume of the enormous snowman's roar.

Hans wickedly threw him out of the guards hands and to the ground, smiling as he did. The crew all made haste, taking the forest route, so as to lose the creature.

Suddenly losing his resolve to die, Olaf screamed do and pleaded to be freed, as the snowman stood at the landing, it's gleaming eyes scanning the situation, sizing everyone up, a second roar causing shard like spikes to erupt from its body.

Hans chuckled darkly, slowly escalating it into a manic laugh, "Why should I?" He hollered, alerting the creature to their presence, "What better place for a snow king to die, than at his own palace of ice?" He laughed, throwing himself onto his horse and then dashing away.

Olaf screamed and wriggled on the ground, "YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!"

Hans looked over his shoulder and called back, "I ALREADY HAVE!"

Olaf turned and shivered as the bounding snowman came to a earth shaking halt just before him, eyes glowing and skies gittleirng in the moonlight... It narrowed its eyes and roared..

Olaf closed his eyes.

XxXxXxXxX


	9. Melting Ice

Henricka awoke from her horrid nightmare, wrapped up in her bed and she smiled into the warm, moist cloth that caressed her face.

The hand wiping her face halted and drew away, an action which disappointed her a little, and so she sat up and blinked furiously in the light of day. Her father was there, sitting at her bedside, shaking and beaming at her with all the warmth of the lit fire place behind them.

Hetty furrowed her brows and studied his face, streaked with tear stains and a little red as though he'd been in a blizzard. She suddenly remembered her ice... She glanced around herself to check if her powers had seeped out like in her dream, and she very quickly and silently sucked up the ice that surrounded them, praying her father hadn't quite noticed it.

Her heartbeat would tell all the fears and worries that her face did not as she kept her composure, and folded her hands gingerly around her father who embraced her in a tight, squeezing hug, sobbing into her shoulder and stroking her hair.

"I thought I lost you." He whispered. He picked her up in his arms and she grappled on, resting her head against his shoulder. Normally she'd enjoy this, since they did this often. He'd pick her up and they'd spin around and around until they got dizzy, or he would just hold her and tell her how much she meant to him.

But as she stared at floor, not quite hearing what he was saying to her, she suddenly couldn't hold it back anymore. Her dream from that night... The falling beam, and the book case, and the ice...what if...

"Papa," she asked into his shoulder. He paused in his emotional ramblings and she drew back to look him in the eyes, "What happened to me?" She tested.

Hans blankly stared at her for a whole, and didn't respond, a dark and resentful look crossing over his face for a moment as he looked away towards the window, melting the iced cap of the North Mountain with his stare.

Henricka was nervous now, she asked again, "Papa, where's Olaf?"

He looked back to her, the darkness still in his eyes and he whispered, "Oh, sweetie, don't worry." He set her down and knelt before her, "He'll never hurt you again."

He growled the last word, and clasped her hands tightly and looked into her eyes, a serious demeanor maintaining itself as he slowly began to speak, explaining himself.

"He tried to freeze you, Hetty, you were limp and cold. He could have killed you... If I hadn't done what was necessary then you wouldn't have survived." he said.

He saw the hint of horror and despair that flooded his daughter's eyes as she caught onto what he meant by that, and it hurt him, but it had to be explained. It had to be done.

"No..." she gasped, and shook her head, drawing away from him a little.

He held her in place and continued, still very seriously, not allowing her to escape this. She deserved to know, "No, Henricka, I had to. People like that are dangerous. They can't control powers like that! Only disaster can come of it!" He said very sternly.

"But, he d-didn't mean to!" Hetty wept, desperately trying to suck up the frost that threatened to explode from herself. She knew he must have taken the fall for her... Why? Why did things like this happen to them?

Hans sneered briefly at her willingness to defend the traitor, and her persistence at that. However he still held firmly to his decision, and it's justification.

"No one ever means to do things like that, Hetty, but at least you can think of it this way." Hans stood up and held her hands, "he did admit to it and he didn't struggle. He took responsibility for it, and he wasn't afraid." He said, milking every single ounce of sadness and gentleness that he could possibly muster up.

"He sacrificed himself for you, like some kind of last act of humanity. He wouldn't want you to be sad." he concluded, touching her face, and studying her eyes. He tried to anticipate her reaction.

She was shocked for a moment, and then she sighed, looking down. She knew her father liked to lie, and she knew he'd probably...made him suffer, but the sacrifice part was most probably true.

"You're right." she said, her love for him and her appreciation for his sacrifice being sufficient enough to hold back the icicles she wished so badly could just come shooting out right now.

"I'll think of it that way then." She said, leaping forward and hugging her father. It was so hard for her, truly, to love and adore him so much. She had seen how good he could be and she could see how much he really, seriously cared for her and would do anything for her. She had also seen how cruel he can be, and was forced to sit back and watch it.

To ignore it.

But Mama was right. If she was on his side, she wouldn't get hurt. She had to be strong for her, and for herself.

"I'm so sorry, Hetty." he relaxed, the tension and guilt he felt, lying to his daughter melted away immediately and he petted her hair.

XxXxXxXxX

Kristoff winced as the servant slammed the door shut. It had been two days since his eye had been punctured, and he'd have to have it removed and the eyelid sewn shut. There wouldn't be an eye specialist in the village for another week, due to the financial state of the kingdom. Even royalty couldn't find a doctor fast enough.

His eye wasn't...DEFLATED or anything... it wasn't hanging out of his socket like in those horror stories, just a little chunky on the surface where the cornea had split partially. Upon impact, he had closed his eye just in time that the whole thing hadn't busted open, so it was a deep scratch more than anything.

Still, it hurt like hell. To make matters worse, he couldn't close his eye anymore for the pain was too great. He shivered and stared at the boarded up window, wishing it wasn't so dark. He wished it wasn't so cold.

He stretched his fingers as best as he could in the cuffs that covered his whole hands, and he crawled forward as much as they, and his leash would let him He sat down awkwardly by the window and stared at it because there was no other source of light.

The tiny, insignificant cracks in the wood were illuminated with the moonlight, and they glowed gently. The window was at least two or three feet away, and he used to be able to make out the fjords outside. now it was just a blur.

He sighed and curled up in a ball, and rested his head back against the wall, looking away from the lights.

He was drifting, sort of fading off into a slumber when suddenly the lights began to grow. The cracks of the wood seemed to open up, and more and more light began to pour in. It was so much a bright light that Kristoff cried out and covered his eyes cursing it, and wondering why he'd ever missed such a horrid, white substance.

It died down a little but there was still a glow, and a sudden chilly breeze floated his way.

He lowered his arms from his face and then froze.

There hovering like a little fairy, smaller than a rat, was a little figurine, bobbing a little in the air. As she stepped forward in the air, her figure grew, and grew until he could clearly make out thee wisps of her hair and the snowflakes in her dress.

She was pure white, the only thing defining her contours was slivers of translucency that allowed the dark of the room to seep through. She stepped forward and spoke.

"Kristoff..." her voice was like a dying gasp, shallow and silent, and one with the breeze coming off her presence.

He yelped a little as she spoke and began to try to shuffle away, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep back the bile that threatened him as he tried to come to terms with the apparition before him.

It knew his name too. In all his years with the trolls, he'd learned that if a spirit knows your name, it's either really good or very seriously bad.

"Kristoff..." she whispered, her tone was desperate and her voice was so sad. It was so sad that he felt tears stinging and burning his eyes, and his chest felt horribly cold.

Her sorrow was so infinite that he could almost make out tears of her own, falling away like snowflakes from her face.

"Please, don't be afraid..." she wailed softly, but it was too late.

In a flash of red and blue, a hideously disfigured corpse, glittering with ice, like a jewel encrusted statue appeared directly on top of him, her melting hands held his from within the shackles, and her face rested against his cheek, and he screamed to the high heavens as she rapidly began to melt, blood and water soaking right through his body and dripping sickly out the other side.

It's mouth still was moving and it spoke, revealing rotten teeth, "Don't be afraid..." it crackled and wheezed, and her face melted away into him, her eyes disappearing last into his cheek and he couldn't stop the horror.

The screams kept coming, and his heart was irregular. He shuddered convulsively and the sweat froze to his forehead, dropping off like little crackling beads.

He had felt the liquid, but as the glow died down, he realised his clothes were completely dry, despite the ominous puddle of blood and ice that sloshed and swirled beneath him.

He screamed long into the night.

XxXxXxX

A breath of wind, cold and dead, still powerful enough to lift ones hair...

She watches in despair, and utter dismay at the poor tortured soul who gave in to fear.

She slowly melts away.

She slowly melts away.

Never once had she been brave enough to try and speak with the man...

She heard his cries and felt his pain, she wants to do something but there's nothing she can.

Now comes the light of day.

She slowly melts away.

Trapped inside a dismal cell, and wishing for freedom, to escape this hell,

She needs to find the a way to get out, she needs somebody's help.

Please don't be afraid.

The fear will bring out all the worst, and so she tries to calm him first...

Soothe the tremors in his heart, when confronted with one from a world apart.

And to that tortured soul she'll say,

Please don't be afraid...

But for now she melts away.

She slowly melts away.


	10. Secrets revealed

Henricka didn't know how long she'd been wandering around, but somehow she'd found herself in a very dark and dismal place. It was cold, and eerie, but calming at the same time. She liked cold and dark places after all. She breathed in the dank, mouldy air and didn't really care that the moisture clung to her lungs and it was hard to see. She'd come down to these abandoned dungeons and meditate for hours at a time, days at a time she'd find herself lost in it's labyrinth like mazes and she'd occupy creaking, open cells.

She wondered what it was like to die, and wondered if this was anything like the underworld she'd imagined.

These particular dungeons were very spiritually connected, and famously haunted too.

Her dear brother, Olaf, had told her numerous ghost stories about a woman who would appear in the night, just a little whisp of air that would grow into a woman. She'd ask you to not be afraid, but when you are, her bloodied corpse would fall on top of you and she'd melt away.

They say the previous Queen had died here, executed for cursing the kingdom and attempting to murder her own sister, Anna.

Hetty knew the real reason though. She came down here and knew that it wasn't an execution, but in fact a murder. Kids and teenagers who were foolish enough to come down here and test the myths and theories left horrified and psychologically altered at the horrid sight of it, and she believed it one hundred percent.

But alas, she was disappointed to have never made contact with her. She had come down here to see if she could catch a glimpse of Elsa herself.

She wouldn't be afraid. She was ready. She wanted to see her for herself, and tell her that she knew. Tell her that Anna was still alive, and still loved her. Tell her how much she loves her powers and how she'd make the world see one day that the ice and snow were not bad, and that there was so much beauty in it.

She'd tell Elsa how love was the key to controlling it, and how it wasn't her fault for being in fear her whole life.

She sighed and shook her head, ridding the silly imaginings from her head. So many things she'd say, but not an apparition in sight.

She stopped for the fourth time in front of a door which was locked, unlike the others. She had always wanted to see what lay on the other side. At first she didn't much care for the locked room, or the possible contents of it, but now she was beginning to think...

"Elsa?" a voice that was not her own croaked out.

She yelped and fell back, staring at the door...

XxXxXxX

Kristoff Steadied his breath and inched closer and closer to the mysterious patch of ice that was slowly covering the floor.

For months and months now he'd been haunted by her...Elsa, that is. He tried so hard not to be afraid, like she asked, but it was to no avail. he'd almost become used to seeing her rotted corpse, mingling with his own and melting away. Instead of his initial horror, he was more sad, and sympathetic. He'd cry for hours after she'd melt and meld with the floor.

The frosty layer reached him before he could muster up the courage to approach it any quicker and the bloodied stain of the floor turned a vicious red, glowing in the dark.

From that spot, her spirit rose, but she wasn't white as usual, but a glaring ruby color.

She was emotionless and still and stared at the door, facing away from him.

"Elsa?" He croaked, nervously. this time he had promised himself that he wouldn't be afraid, and that he'd not let her melt into him again.

But she ignored him and stepped forward. A peculiar yelp came from the other side of the door and Elsa quickened her pace. She got to the door and when she tried to pass through it...

The spectre screamed in agony and fell back, colliding with him and melting as usual.

Kristoff looked into those dead eyes and then down at the patch of ice, coming from under the door

"Help...me..." the corpse wheezed, lifting a melting hand, pointing towards the door.

XxXxXxXxX

Hetty was utterly petrified. For a brief moment, she room before her had glowed, from under the door and up at the top where the bars were.

Then a horrid scream, and a garbled, gasp like voice breathed 'Help me' before all the glow had disappeared.

She didn't know what to do, but stand there. Now, she thought, now she KNEW she had to get into that room. If this wasn't a sign from the other word, then she was probably going mad, which she highly doubted.

She took a step forward and then another, staggering towards the door.

"Is someone in there?" she called out quietly.

There was no immediate answer, but she persisted, "Hello? Is anyone there?" She placed a hand to the door, the handle was just to her forehead, due to her height, but she ratted it.

"Y-yes." a male voice stuttered.

But before she could respond, she heard footsteps coming from down the hall to the right, and so she sucked up her ice and ran to the left, hiding in the shadows and watching.

The footsteps sounded angry and loud against the empty walls and they came to a very furious halt, just before the locked door.

Hetty squinted in the shadows and could make out who it was...

"Papa...?" she gasped.

He flicked up some keys from a post near the door and carelessly undid the door, she could make out a crumpled, terrified figure on the other side as he entered before slamming the door shut.

Before she could question her own sanity, she stealthily shuffled over to the door...

She listened...

XxXxXxXxX

"Well, I have to hand it to you," Hans chuckled darkly, "You've managed to keep up pretty well in here for a bleeding, dying thing." He lanced over at the poorly illuminated Kristoff, and the lit the lantern in the far corner.

"Hans." he replied spitting his name out with a venomous tone.

Hans chuckled again and smiled, disbelieving at how lively his little pet could be.

"I hear the servant's tales about this... madness that you've been infected with." He waved his hand casually, stepping closer to him, and looking him over, "Apparently you've been seeing the dead?" he asked with a thick, sarcasm dripping off his voice like the blood that seeped through his body every other night.

"Yeah, and what of it?" Kristoff replied, tightening his arms and legs against his chest, wondering if he was the only one who could see the swirling pools of ice and blood that lay all over the floor.

A sudden whip that he hadn't anticipated cracked across his arms and it came back in the other direction. His arms flew up to protect his eyes, his broken eye still had yet to be treated and it was getting infected too...

Hans flicked his wrist in the other direction again and it came back across his chest.

"What do you think your playing at, mutt?" Hans sneered, kicking him in the guts firmly, Sven boots in tact as usual..

"Trying to get one of them to free you? Asking to be moved to another cell?" He raised his voice, incredulous that this lowly beast of a man could even imagine he was in a position to be requesting things.

"What do you think you are? Royalty? A guest here? You superstitious, boar! I couldn't care less if you were eaten alive by rats in your sleep!" He hollered and cracked his whip against the shivering form, blood freshly staining the front of the tattered undershirt.

"I-I'm not t-trying to-" Kristoff began to explain.

In his madness he had gone over the edge for a while there and had begun screaming and begging and pleading the servants to break him out, so he could escape the haunting, but now he'd become used to them.

"Hah, could have fooled me." Hans muttered.

"I leave you alone in here for only three moths... not even bothering with ripping you apart like I'd love to... a true act of 'humanity' you could say.. heh..." He paced back and forth, twiddling the whip handle within his fingers, "And this is my thanks? Maybe I shouldn't have been so kind to you."

He threw aside the whip and then cracked his knuckles, "Now, let's see that busted eye of yours... hehehehe"

XxXxXxXxX

Hetty shivered and recoiled from the sounds of fists against skin, and screams of torture rang out. She heard her father say things she didn't know he was capable of saying and heard his voice twist and contort like never before.

All her life she had only seen the good in him, but this episode lead her to question if it was even real...how could they be the same person?

She knew not how long she stayed there, but by the time Hans had stepped out of the room, and locked the door behind him, she was extremely horrified and yet relieved. Horrified at the blood that stained his knuckles and clothing, and the satisfied look on his face, and relieved that he didn't seem to notice her thee, cowering on the floor.

He tossed the keys up onto the post, where it was before and then stalked away.

She waited until his footsteps were mere ghosts in the distance... and then let it go.

She wailed and shuddered, frost and icicles of all patterns and size shot out from her small form and she steadied herself against the door, her tears pattering to the ground.

She wailed and wept, and crawled to the centre of the door and pressed her hands against it. She rested her forehead on it and she blubbered out,

"I'm sorry... I'm s-so so s-sorry..." she apologised to the man behind the door. She didn't know who he was or why he was there but she knew that no one deserved that.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, chanting it liked it would somehow make him feel better. She wept and slid down to the floor, burying her head in her arms and shivering.

"It's okay..." he voice responded. She gasped, and sat up, startled by the response.

The voice she heard now was so fragile, and sounded like he was nice enough...

He sounded as though his own pain wasn't even significant, "Please... don't cry. It's not that bad...in here." He tried to soothe her.

She shook her head and retorted, "He...I've never seen him do that before. I...I trusted him so much..." She trailed off, sobbing a little, "I loved him so much... I don't want this to be ...real..."

There was a silence and then finally he spoke again, "Elsa?" he asked.

She sniffled, confused and looked up at the door.

"N-no...?" she replied.

There was another silence and then the voice sounded a little closer, some dragging chains and hisses of pain preceeding his next guess, "a-... Anna?" he asked.

As he said her name, with such tenderness and dorrow, suddenly Hetty remembered something from her mother's tales.  
There was a man, an ice harvester who had helped her find Elsa, and who had stolen her heart. Hans had conned her into marriage to gain the throne, and she never saw him again...

"N...No" she whispered, but not to answer his guess. It couldn't be... Anna had told her he was dead.

"Kristoff...?" She whispered.

There was yet another dead, cold silence, and her heartbeat provided the only source of sound, echoing against the walls of this forbidden prison...

"Yes." the voice replied.

XxXxXxXxXxX  
The wind was fairly warm, despite the bitter cold that had ravaged their kingdom for the past few days But it was nothing to Anna. Right now everything was cold She touched the picture frame she held in her hands, the one and only portrait Olaf had ever sat still for with her.

It had been done when he was about eight or nine, and he'd snuggled up into her so much that his hair was all astray but it only added to the truly personal feel that the picture held. She traced his face and her fingers trembled, the open window letting in the cold light, and shining over his warm and ever cheerful face.

She choked on a sob and glanced up at the mountains where two of the most important and beautiful men in her life now rested.

Hans had told her, after the funeral what had happened Or what he thought' had happened. She was nursing a new patch of bruises and her scarf only aggravated the contusions around he neck from his furious fit.

The only thing that saved her life was probably Hans' desire not to be tried for murder, and the fact that everyone was already expecing him to do it

Everyone in Arendelle was slowly beginning to see his true nature, and their beloved Queen's continued silence and sorrowful obedience was evident. they hadn't seeen her when she was a chipper young woman, full of life and love and wonder, but they'd at least heard about it. She'd see ex-staff sometimes from the windows and see them enjoying their lives, but some would cast a wary glance towards her prison

The people wanted her to be free.. but no one had any evidence. She was too afraid to speak out. The fact that he'd murdered his own son based on an assumption was enough to say that even if she tried to speak up, she'd be silenced one way or another. He had all the staff on his side since he hired new ones, and he'd been sure to speak to them in his native language, choosing foreigners from his home lands to ensure there were language barriers.

He'd gone such a long way to control her. She was beginning to feel like a pathetic damsel in distress though. Sitting around like a little girl, waiting for some ridiculous prince charming to come and rescue her.

Olaf was gone, so there was no more prince charming. Elsa, Kristoff, even Sven, and then there was her parents not to mention. all she had left was her daughter, who was forced to side with the opposition

But why? Why she asked herself, was she just sitting around and being the good girl she always had to be?

Elsa had the right Idea to run away, from his hell, from this terrible prison. She should have stayed up on the north mountain with her, and Kristoff and they'd hunt for food and live in the ice and snow forever, and to hell with the damned kingdom! they could freeze forever and evolve into yetties for all she cared!

She huffed and sat down her portrait and straightened her back, with a new mindset and a determination like never before

"This ends now." She said.

She turned on her heel and ripped her cloak off it's hook and threw it over her shoulders.

"That perfect girl is GONE!" she hissed.

But as she rounded the corner, she ran into her daughter, white as a ghost, and hair a mess. Her eyes were tear stained and she shuddered, but a smile that defied all the rest of her body was ever so bright and visible on her face.

"That's okay, but I have something you should see first." She whispered.

XxXxXxXxX

"It's okay... I'll be f-fine..." I lied. The man shook his head and forced more of the foul liquid down my throat. It was nice and all, the whole healing thing, but it still was driving me mad.

"Are you s-sure this stuff isn't poisonous?" I wretched as He withdrew the crudely carved spoon.

The round, stone man humphed and furrowed his brows at me, his grassy mane bristling against the ground, "I haven't heard a boy complain as much as you since Bulda's boy!" He retorted.

Bulda? Oh! Yes, I had almost forgotten. After a week of no food, and limited water, I had stumbled upon the lovely troll woman who took me in right away.

It felt like she'd done this before. It didn't surprise me that there might've been other young lost boys before me.

"Now you go on and get to her now, before she throws a fit!" The old troll man wheezed. He wasn't as nice as Pabbie was, but he did the job.

I stood slowly and shuffled over to where I had memorised her step.

The man turned and called back to me before I'd reached the stairs however and called back, "say, what was your name again, kid?"

I rolled my eyes and responded with a smile, "Your memory is shot, old guy! The name, is Olaf..."

I grinned at his insulted face and then scurried up the stairs.


	11. The Olaf Chronicles- Not a Monster

**The Olaf Chronicles ~ An intermission story**

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! This is still all a part of the story, and we'll be getting to the super cool epic finale soon, but like i said earlier in the story, Olaf is actually a VERY important part of this story's progress.

Welcome to the Olaf chronicles! The events within this three part mini saga illustrate what happened to Olaf during his three or four month absence from Arendelle, during his banishment and technical 'death'.

By the end of this little intermission story, it will lead up to exactly where we left off with Kristoff and Anna. Please enjoy!

XxXxXxXxX

Olaf closed his eyes, ready for the big, monstrous snowman to crush him, and peacefully he lay, in the cold snow.

A beat or two passed and nothing happened though, yet he could feel the cold breath of the creature on his face, and the vibrations coming off his voice was very real as he spoke:

"Who are you?" it demanded to know, rolling him over to face all the way up.

He snapped open his eyes and stared disbelievingly at the creature, wondering if he'd imagined that.

The boy could make out every glittering snowflake that made up the ferocious monster's face and body as it twisted in impatient agitation. I lowered his head and roared, "WHO ARE YOU?"

I drew back when Olaf didn't flinch and then added in a softer tone, "And why are you here?"

He didn't quite know why he wasn't so scared anymore by the big snowman, be it because he was being spared, or be it because he had lost his mind, but for whatever the reason he was just grateful that his next words came out as clearly as they did.

"I'm.. I'm Olaf, and ..." He didn't really know what to say about 'why' he was here but he was wise enough to not keep the snowman waiting, "I've been banished to the North Mountain." he stated, somewhat satisfied with his own explanation.

The snowman retracted his spikes and he softened a little, his expression wasn't so deeply set, and his eyes were still narrowed but they held a completely different, far away emotion.

"Ive been banished, here by my father." Olaf continued, a little unnerved by the silence and the intense stare of the creature.

"He was your father?" the snowman asked.

Olaf nodded. The creature glared at him and then shifted his weight a little, looking away and rumbling a little as he thought about this.

"And he just left you up here?"

The prince nodded again, trying to sit up but failing miserably, and then decided to give up, settling for his previous position on his back.

"For dead." Olaf stated bluntly. "I guess he was hoping you'd tear me apart, limb from limb." He spat.

The snowman huffed and roared angrily at him, "AND WHAT EVIDENCE OF THIS DO YOU HAVE?"

He stepped one step closer and continued, "Is it because I'm a monster? Do you humans only live to destroy each other and accuse other creatures of being any worse? What sick irony it is, to call it 'humanity' when humans are the least humane of all!"

Olaf was dumbfounded for a moment as he absorbed such a sorrowful and frustrated question, realising that for a lot of reasons he had been asking the same questions. He had been asking that same question all his life.

How could humans be so cruel, and yet they name the act of having mercy, and being thoughtful and ethically correct after their corrupt selves?

"You're right. We are... pretty full of ourselves. But," He tried to sit up again, "I don't think you're a monster...for what it's worth anyway."

The crature sotened again and looked at him, all cold and bound up, left for dead by his own father. He never quite knew what family was himself.

He had been created in a moment of fear and pain, to serve as a means of forceful seperation between two sisters. His crator, Elsa had created him to keep her sister away, but she was doing it to protect her.

He was vicious, and mean, but inside he was still brought to life with the same kind of love that the other snowman had been crafted from.

"Olaf." he repeated the boy's namee. He took a closer look at the small human child and saw there, in his eyes, the same face that told him how much she just wanted her sister to be safe.

"Yeah. That's me." the boy said. He didn't show any more fear. He wasn't afraid of him.

He knelt down and the boy was a little starlted but he pressed a finger to his chest and gently held him still, "Stay." he ordered.

Olaf stayed put and then, trusting this creature, he closed his eyes and waited.

With a quick slice, the ropes that bound his torso were cut, soon followed by the ones around his wrists and the ones around his ankles and clavs.

Olaf eventually opened up his eyes to watch, curiously as the giant snowman tore away at the horrid ropes and then slowly, he sat himslef up, shaking but only from the cold.

He waited for the snowman to finish before rising to his feet.

The snowman remained in his knelt position and he regarded the boy with a serious expression, not as soft as from earlier but not aggressive either.

"Who are you?" Olaf asked, "And how did you come to be here?" He asked, although he thought he probably knew.

The snowman looked away, huffing and didn't respond.

"Did Elsa make you?"he asked.

The snowman turned back slowly and the opened its mouth, but soon closed it again, unable to find the words to say.

Olaf knew, that this snowman new what had become of his creator. His mother had told the story of the big snowman who threw them off the north mountain, to keep her safe from Elsa. His father had told the story about how he single handedly defeated a vicious monster who the queen had created to keep herself safe from potential threats.

By piecing together the pieces he'd been provided, he had a bit of an idea of what this snowman had lived through. He took note of the fact that one of his legs was severed, and he had a few chipped finger-claws.

This poor, lonely creature. He'd been up here, all alone, without even his creator to share this kingdom of ice with. He couldn't stand it anymore.

Olaf ran up to the creature and threw his arms around him, nuzzling his head into the snowman's surprisingly soft, but icy fibers and whispered, "It doesn't matter. I still don't think you're a monster at all. Thank you..."

He trailed off as the snowman scooped him up in his hand and returned the embrace.

"Warm hugs... huh?" the creature muttered, mostly to himself.

"There was... another soul like yours once, although I'd only ever been told about him. I never got to meet him properly." He finished before picking up the young man and carrying him off towards the palace of ice.

Olaf knew what he meant, for the most part, and any other questions he'd wait to ask. For now, all he knew was that for a while now, he'd be sharing a home with this magnificent being, and he wouldn't regret a second of it.

And though the snowman knew, that in time, the boy would need to leave, and join his own kind once more... for the better... he would try his best to fulfill his original purpose: To protect someone important to the Queen... which meant, someone also important to him.

XxXxXxXxX


	12. The Olaf Chronicles- It's Time To Go

Olaf slowly crept around to the far side of the icy throne room, minding the shards of ice that grew there occasionally, as though it were living, and then carefully settled on his haunches, near the edge of the once guarded balcony.

There was a magnificent view of the whole kingdom, and even what lands lay beyond their icy shores. He inhaled deeply and grinned, his breath coming back out like puffs of condensation, and tickling his own face with warmth.

If it weren't for the fact that he was pretty much freezing, he'd almost like to stay here forever. Or so he felt at the time. This place may have had its perks but...

Nevermind. He tried to redirect his thoughts and focus on something less confronting...

He laid himself down, staring now up at the sky, and its endless and shore-less sea of cerulean tinted atmosphere, and closed his eyes, of a matching hue. He snuggled down into his woolly clothing, which he'd patched together himself from one of Marshmallow's latest kills, and he tried to ignore the fact that he'd been eating almost only raw meat and fish for the past three weeks.

A few adventurous treks into the forest served to be a useful way to collect other types of food, but since he'd rather not get lost, and his foraging skills were mediocre at best, Marshmallow had gotten frustrated with him, and so he was confined to the castle.

A beat or two passed, and the young prince sighed, as a chilly breeze blew past, the sounds of it whistling and echoing throughout the large ice castle. It was so empty. Just like how he felt...like he was dead. It was like he was dying, along with everyone else he'd left behind.

He sat up and hunched himself all the way over, squashing his knees into his cheeks and glared at his barely recogniseable reflection, which was warped and jagged in the layers and layers of frozen water before him.

He huffed and yet again tried not to think about them. About his mother, and his sister, that is... and the snow queen too...

"Hey..." A voice boomed softly. Olaf was only a little startled, and looked up from his sulking, wincing a little at the floppy and dead goat in his friend's icy fingers, "You don't look so good, your majesty."

He had taken to calling him that. since Elsa was no longer there, and there were no others related to his creator left who knew of his existence, he now fell under the command of Olaf... to an extent anyway.

"Oh, it's just.. you know, cold and stuff." He waved his hands at the empty castle and then closed his arms back down and around his legs. Marshmallow narrowed his eyes and hummed noncommittally before dropping the dead goat by Olaf's feet.

"Then go warm up." He suggested bluntly.

Olaf gingerly dragged up the animal and was grateful that there wasn't a lot of blood. He thought it a shame to taint the floors of such a lovely place, but also there was a deeper reason, and a fearful one. For days he'd been plagued with not only the thoughts of his family whom he dearly missed, and nightmares of having died instead of being spared.

He'd had horrific visions of the former queen, and her slowly melting body, splashing to the ground and her sickeningly garbled voice begging for help.

He'd only ever heard of these stories before, but since he moved to this castle, every time any blood made contact with the floor of the throne room, he'd be visited in the night by her horrid spectre.

Of course, normally it only happened if HIS blood made contact with the floor, but he wasn't ready to risk it. He'd tested it out in his spare time one week, and once he'd confirmed that it was directly linked to him, he made a point of washing ever corner of that room.

It hadn't stopped her though. She still would come. It was like she was punishing him. For leaving... for intruding her palace...

"Ugh," he grunted as he pulled the carcass onto the landing of the nearly broken stairs, and then dragged it over to the 'safe point' at which he was permitted to light up a fire and cook the food which Marshmallow would provide.

It was far away enough to not melt the stairs and it was close enough that he'd be able to call for help.

Minutes passed, and the fire was finally starting to perk up, but the ocean of thoughts concerning Elsa, and Anna and Hans all wouldn't leave his mind.

He felt like he had done the right thing by sacrificing himself, but at the same time he felt like he'd taken the easy way out, by faking his death. To make matters worse, now that he was 'dead' there was no going back. Not until the last breath of life was drawn out of that sick and twisted dictator that the foolish kingdom of Arendelle accepted as their ruler.

Images of Elsa flooded his vision for a moment or two, but try as he might he couldn't escape their eerie presence.

He whined and threw his hands over his face and sobbed a little, finally losing his composure. It was too much for him. He wished he could go back, and know for SURE if his mother was okay, and to know for CERTAIN that Hetty hadn't been found out.

He continued to sob, and the darkness of guilt and fear plagued him even further.

Marshmallow watched from afar, wishing there was something he could do for the boy. He didn't want to push him away, or shut him out like he had with everyone else. He had learned from the boy how to more openly express his emotions and even learned to care for people, even if only one person.

He wished the boy could stay here with him, but with each passing week, the pain in the young prince's aura only grew greater and greater. Unlike Elsa, this young man wasn't made for the cold and the isolation. He needed his own kind.

As deeply as he'd regret it, tonight would be the night. He had come to the decision that for the better of his new master's well being and family, he would do what he does best, and escort him away from the north mountain. Perhaps less violently and harshly had he had done so, to his mother before him of course, but it still had to be done. But the young prince would always be welcome to come back...

Or so he hoped he would come back. But he'd just have to wait and see about that.

XxXxXxXxX

Olaf stared up in shock at the snowman's words and his heart fell, "You want me to .. to leave?" He whispered.

Marshmallow showed no immediate reaction, only a stern and hardened expression, wrought with determination.

"Yes.. and no." he replied.

Olaf shook his head slowly and took a step forward, looking up into the eyes of this wonderous creature who had cared for him for the past months. He had begun to see in this so called monster, a shred of humanity that he had so dearly longed for in the world.

Who, once he left, would chase off the wolves and help him survive in the cold? Who would bring him food, and provide for him shelter? Who would do for him everything his mother had done, once he was all alone out there and with nothing and no one left to turn to?

He didn't know _how_ to take care of himself...not very well, anyway!

Marshmallow sighed and knelt down, sensing the despair in his young masters heart, and held him closely, "It's not that I do not want you here. It is that I do not need you here... there are other people who DO."

He drew away and his stern look resurfaced, "Go, Olaf. Go to your family. They need you right now. And you need THEM." He paused and let that sink in for a while before standing up again.

"You can not survive up here for very much longer. It is too cold, and a human needs his own kind to thrive and continue on. I'm telling you to go because I couldn't..." He trailed off and looked away, debating whether or not he was ready yet to finish.

Olaf trembled and looked to his feet, realising what was going on. He knew it too, that he would only die up here. Perhaps these visions of Elsa were all trying to tell him, just what he'd expected all along.

It was time for him to stop hiding and to face up to his past. It was necessary, or else there wouldn't be a future for him.

"I couldn't just stand here an watch you die. I can't just let that man live, who took away our queen." He finished, Olaf was taken aback a little, having been thinking something along similar lines.

"But what can I do all on my own?" He argued, not because he didn't want to do anything, but because he really didn't stand a chance on his own.

Marshmallow chuckled deeply and looked to him again, "That is why I will help you." he stated

"You will?" Olaf perked up and held his breath, his imagination running a million things past his mind at once, just picturing the looks of horror on those forsaken guards' faces when he'd come barreling down the mountain side, atop the same creature they had assumed was responsible for his death.

Marshmallow knew what he was thinking too, but then became serious once more: "But I can not do it yet. It isn't cold enough yet for me to go down to Arendelle. You must, until then, find help and gain a support network. I alone can not take on all of these matters." He finished.

Olaf sucked up a big breath and nodded, completely aware of the situation.

"Who should I get help from, though?" he asked.

Marshmallow hummed and then pointed out to the far west, where the snow gradually receeded and there were many dips and valleys.

"To the west, deep in the forest, there is a valley where the stone lives and breathes. They are great beings, who know many things about your family. You must find them, and explain to them your visions of the queen. Tell them what your father had done. They might be able to place you on the right path. They are far much wiser than I am in these matters." he explained.

Without very much further ado, Olaf grabbed up his belongings, of which he had very little, and then headed out. Before he'd descended the wary staircase though, he turned back and rushed up to Marshmallow, smothering himself in his soft, but icy fibers.

"I'll be back. I'll miss you buddy." he promised.

And then, finally, he headed off to the west in search of these mystic beings


	13. The Olaf Chronicles-Hans Your Time is Up

It was a lost cause, Olaf felt. He had been lost for a week now, travelling blindly through the forests, and the wild, living as best he could off nature. However, even that was pretty rough considering his poor experience and his limited knowledge.

at this time, he couldn't help but curse himself for all the days his father had proposed to do things with him, and he had declined. It seemed to be the right thing to do at the time, but now he was regretting it.

Here, lost on this mountain, cold and alone, not even his dear guardian to help him, he realised how much he took for granted all the times Hans had TRIED to do right by him. All that bonding time he would speak of, and all those days where he purposely stood his father up, just to laugh in his face.

what a downright piece of shit he had been, he thought. He hated the man, with all his heart, and yet he could have utilised him to his advantage. He had his head in the clouds and just hadn't seen the importance of reality until now.

He cursed as his footing failed and he grasped desperately at a high tree root, staring at the precarious drop. Marshmallow had told him the direction in which to go, but he hadn't quite told him of the landmarks, or anything else other than the fact that the people, or creatures he needed were there in that place, called the valley of the living rock.

Now Olaf stopped to ponder, what was a valley? He had forgotten if it was a dip in the earth, a low lying sort of land surrounded by higher land, or if it was the opposite... A land on a hill, or many hills, or was that a tundra...

And so he pondered on and on, until he lost his footing again, but this time failed to grasp any roots.

The drop was at least six feet, so that wasn't too bad, but it still hurt like hell. He groaned and rolled over, only to realise there was a step there, and so he fell down it.

Then there was another step...and another step... And another again...

Finally, he reached the end of the steps, and he cried out in frustration. He was probably going to be endlessly bruised from all these stupid, boulder things that kept getting in his way, and were all over the steps that he'd just rolled off.

And if that wasn't enough, now the rocks were moving..wait, what?

He halted in his frustrated string of curses and profanities to ogle at the rocks, all rolling down off the steps, and surrounding him. He shivered and glanced warily at all of them, from every direction and then yelped as they all stood upright..

At least thirty or forty little stone people glared up at him, suspicious looks in their eyes, and some whom he recognised as the boulders he'd rebounded off of, were especially not impressed, rubbing their backs.

They all parted and a particularly elderly troll, which he was assuming he was, approached.

"Who are you and what business do you have with the valley of the living rock?" He asked, not in a particularly mad or irritated way, but he did sound weary, and tired.

He sighed with endless relief at having finally found the damn place. He fell to his sore knees, to the slight shock of the other trolls, and he breathed, "My name is Olaf, and I've been told to come here for help."

The troll looked me over and then sighed, "The troll kind once shared such an arrangement with the citizens of this land, but the king with whom we were affiliated is no more. Unless your purpose is of great measure, we are not obligated to offer you our services. Do you understand?" He explained.

Olaf nodded, knowing that he would have to negotiate. He didn't expect anything to come for free, or even for them to care... However, he DID have at least one thing up his sleeve.

"You dislike the current king?" He asked almost conversationally.

"We do not have any particular opinion of him, but it was King Wilhelm of Arendelle and his son who freed our kind from persecution and gave us these forests. Until the last of his kin lived, we served their family thoughtfully." He informed him.

Olaf grinned and then stood up again. "Well, the last of his kin have not yet perished."

He looked the troll in the eyes and then explained, "I am his grandson, and my mother is Anna. And right now, she's in trouble. I need you to help us." He said.

The trolls gasped and began to chatter amongst themselves, and the older troll before him looked him back in the eyes. Olaf nodded and placed his hands on his heart,

"Please, my father is a cruel king, who took away everyone who was ever important to my mother. Her sister, Queen Elsa...even an innocent man who did nothing but care for my mothers safety." As he said this, he recalled his mothers stories about the man named Kristoff, and he looked around at the trolls, another idea forming in his mind...

"He took away someone who was important to YOU too." He stated.

The trolls all looked at one another and the deep sadness that filled the air was evident. A particular female troll wept a little into her husbands mossy shoulder.

The elderly troll nodded once, "Kristoff was a dearest member of our family."

Olaf continued, "He was important to my mother as well, and so he paid the price for it." His tone was bitter and he sneered, looking away.

He sighed and then continued with his plea, "Also, I've been having visions of the former queen. She comes to me at night and I think it must mean something. I was told to come to you, and that you might be able to help. I think it has something to do with my father and mother, but only you can tell me."

Some trolls began to chatter again, and finally the elder troll silenced them with a hand. Olaf looked at him intensely and hopefully, his breath held...

"Come with me. We will deal with these visions after we return you to a physically healthy state. You must be in shape for the magic to work." He announced.

Olaf sighed, and fell to his knees again, some trolls coming to his aid. It was going to be a long, last few days of autumn.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Olaf sat in front of the woman troll, who told him her name was Bulda. Bulda had been a mother to Kristoff, and told him how he had brought Anna here with a frozen heart. They had assumed that since Kristoff never told them what happened to her afterwards, that Anna had passed and he was too upset to talk about it. With a frozen heart, no one could have imagined that anything else could reverse it but true love.

When Olaf explained that Elsa had been killed, reversing all magic, they corrected him. Only all magic which had been cast unintentionally was undone. The fact that the ice palace and Marshmallow still existed meant that her magic wasn't completely undone.

It was possible that the magic which was inside Anna only melted because it was out there by mistake.

"Now, come and give me your hands." She directed softly. He complied and held them out for her to examine.

Nodding, she took some charcoal and inscribed some runes onto his hands. She dusted them with a crushed up eggshell from a specific bird, and then taught him what to say.

She pointed to the symbols and she uttered what syllable it made, and he repeated after her. After they had a few trial runs, she told him to put his hands together.

"Now, if you say this exactly like I showed you, it will temporarily summon a spirit to you, regardless of what physical boundaries a spirit had been confined to." She said.

The took deep breaths and then Olaf cast the incantation.

A white light was growing from the palms of his hands, and he kept them together, continuing to say the chant, determined to summon her. Anything that was causing her to appear the way she had been lately would be completely overwritten by the purity of the trolls magic.

But it didn't matter anyway. Should she appear to him again, in the same way, he wouldn't have been afraid. He was ready.

Finally the light turned blue, and a large, translucent snowflake appeared, which gradually shrank back, and into the form of a beautiful woman, so young she might still be a child, if it weren't for the way she stood, and the way she dressed, and how her face held such a maturity in it, and also a deep sadness..

Olaf released his palms from one another and then washed away the markings and dust.

"Elsa." He breathed.

She looked at him, as though she already knew him, and she smiled, her face actually visible, instead of being pure white with barely definitive outlines. Her eyes were a crystalline blue and her lips tweaked softly as she regarded him.

"Olaf." She replied.

Olaf felt his breath hitch at the beauty of her voice, minus the eerie echo it usually held when she haunted him.

"You look so much like your father." She stated.

Olaf cringed and bit his tongue, not wanting to insult her with the profanities that came to mind, and she chuckled behind her hand, her smile reaching her eyes, "I'm sorry, I know you hate that...I just couldn't resist..." She explained.

He furrowed his brows, and then asked, "Why are you haunting me? If you don't mind me, you know...getting right to the point..." He trailed off, suddenly very nervous in the presence of her elegance. He mentally kicked himself for getting so worked up over his mother's sister...and for being so rudely blunt at that.

She seemed not to mind though, despite the sad look which returned to her eyes.

"Your blood came into contact with mine, that day you cut yourself on my chandelier. I was cut by it when your father tried to kill me with it many years ago." She began.

"Those who's blood comes into contact with mine shall be haunted by my apparition, but only when in the same place as my blood. Since you left the palace, I haven't haunted you. I have been haunting another man instead who is being held in my cell." She said.

Olaf nodded and then asked, "Why do you haunt us though? What reason is there? What does it mean?"

Elsa looked to the direction of Arendelle and stated eerily, "I wish to exact revenge on your father. I may be trapped in that cell, and my palace, but no distance can keep my ears from the cries of my sister and her kingdom, in the hands of a murderous fiend."

"And you need someone to help you?" He guessed.

"Yes. I need a body." She said, returning her attention to him, "to possess, and then carry out my will. I first tried to possess the man in my cell. He most certainly had the desire and the will to destroy Hans. However he is too afraid of me, and so I can not possess him. He is not of very sound mind anymore, and now I only appear to him by default."

She stepped towards Olaf, her train flowing elegantly and placing a cold, translucent hand onto his cheek and smiling, "You, however had more potential. Your soul is so bright though, and I've come to love you so much in the passing months."

He very visibly blushed at her statement, his slightly narrowed eyes, screaming for an explanation.

"When I bonded with your blood I learned your life story and I know everything about you. You befriended my guardian, Marshmallow, and that is why I'm not surprised that you've summoned me. He told me you were being sent to this place."

He hummed, finally understanding and then asked, "So is it me that you need to possess?"

She sighed and shook her head, "I wouldn't want to hurt you, and so I feel that you too are unfit for my possession. It has become...difficult to find a host." She said.

For a moment they were silent, and the wind blew gently. Winter was settling in and light snowfall was on the horizon.

"However," Elsa began again, regaining Olaf and the trolls attention, "I think I've found another host."

"Who?" Olaf asked.

Elsa closed her eyes and drew her hand through his hair, and she knelt down to his level, "Your sister was born with my powers. The other night, not too long ago, she passed by my cell by chance. Her powers reacted with my spirit and summoned me instantly. I think if I were to possess her, I could carry out my will, and at the same time I could do it without hurting someone."

Bulda, who was still there interjected, "Yes of course! Your powers would enter the person whom you've possessed, and therefore it would leave them injured with ice in their veins afterwards, but the princess is compatible with you!"

She walked up to Elsa and then asked, "How do you propose we get her to come onto contact with you?"

Elsa nodded slowly, before suddenly she asked, "Are you named Bulda?"

The he troll woman nodded hesitantly, a little confused that she should know such a thing.

Elsa's face crumpled a little, with grief as she turned her attention to the smaller woman.

"I know that his sister will return to my cell. The same night I was summoned by her powers, was the day she discovered who was in that cell."

She placed a finger on Bulda's crystal necklace, "She said she would be coming back to his cell tomorrow night when her father is meant to be leaving for a trip to his homeland." She explained

"Who was in that cell? Why would she come back?" She asked her.

"You are a very good mother, Bulda, and I can tell you, that Kristoff has never, ever forgotten about you." She replied.

For a moment, the troll and the prince exchanged confused looks, before the realisation dawned on them.

Bulda covered her mouth with her hands and began to weep, Olaf coming to her side and looking up at his aunt, "Do you mean to say..." He started.

She replied, "Tomorrow night, Henricka will bring Anna to him. He has lived in my cell for many years now. So Olaf, please, send me back to the prison so that I might emerge from that cell. Once Hetty opens that door, so long as my spirit is materialised at the same moment, I can finally possess her." She said.

"But if she is too afraid to open the door after I materialise, I will need you to open the door FOR me." She said.

"Huh? But how?" Olaf asked, for it was impossible to expect him to reach the prison within the next day, let alone be able to time its opening, and somehow avoid the guards...

"No silly, I didn't mean literally..." She replied, a light smile evident in her voice as she looked away,

"Go back to Marshmallow and tell him what I've told you. Should your sister be too afraid to open the door, I can still possess her by force, but it still require her to be physically accessible to me. I would LIKE to have her let me in willingly, but let's face it... My rotting corpse isn't exactly very persuasive..."

Olaf snorted and rolled his eyes, "okay, I'll send you back, and then I'll go get Marshmallow."

Bulda piped up, recovered from her grief and shouted, "And we'll come too! Nobody locks up our baby Kristoff and gets away with it! What about you guys?" She asked the other spectating trolls.

Immediately, all of them chorused in a huge uproar in favor of taking a stand, and Elsa smiled.

Olaf sent her back.

"Hans, your time is up." He wickedly grinned.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Anna told Henricka to stay by the hall entrance.

"Hetty, baby, if Hans comes down here before he heads off, you MUST hold him off. This is a very big job, and you can NOT let your powers out, no matter how scared you might get." She whispered.

Hetty nodded and then handed her the keys. Anna took them and then looked at her daughter one last time..

"And what is with the secrecy? Can't you just tell me who is in the cell?" She asked.

Her daughter giggled and shook her head, "It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you!" She retorted.

Anna sighed and smiled, kissing her on the forehead before going down to investigate.

She had memorised which cell was Elsa's. Her body had been left there out of fear, and she had melted cruelly into the floor. It was a sight that she would never forget, as she held her dying sisters hand, who was too mutilated and disfigured to even speak words to her.

Henricka had told her that someone completely innocent was being held unlawfully in her cell, and that it was, and she quotes, 'paramount' that she go down and see for herself.

About six people shot up in her mind as to whom they may be... Olaf, or perhaps an ex servant... Even her own sister, arisen from the dead came to her mind.

She slowed and then halted before the door...

It was just the way it was left. Cold, tall and roughly cut from a dark wood, its bolts only slightly rusted with time. She gingerly lifted up the keys and shakily inched towards the keyhole..

She slipped a few times trying to get it in, but finally, with the help of her other hand she did.

With some effort, she turned the key, the creaking of the gears inside the lock causing her to curse the echoes which erupted from its shrill noise.

Something shifted from behind the door... A voice hissed, "Who's there..."

It was male, but too old to be Olaf and so her heart fell. She didn't answer, but instead took a deep breath, and grabbing a torch from the side of the door frame and then threw the door open.

She dropped the torch.

She fell to her knees.

"Anna..." He breathed.

She screamed.


	14. Well, now they know

"Anna." Kristoff hoarsely whispered again, gazing fondly at the greying head of hair against his chest, and her thin hands which weren't as smooth as they used to be, that trembled as they lifted up to touch his face.

Her sea blue eyes widened as she studied his face, taking in the rugged long hair he'd grown and his thin, scarred neck, and his bottom lip that had a nasty twisted scar that trailed up the left side of his bleeding face.

Her breath hitched and she sobbed into his chest, squeezing her eyes shut, unable to look him in the eye... The only eye he had left.

This, she thought, was the man whom she had dreamed about. She had dreamed of a world where she hadn't come home, and stayed up in the mountains with him by his side forever, had children of their own, and worked to make a living.

She had wondered where he was, or what he would be doing, and if he had missed her too. She had hoped for this day, for so long, and then suddenly he was gone. Hans had told her he was dead.

Some nights he would hold her down and whisper to her the way in which he had killed him, describing it in detail, embellishing, exaggerating, listing every last inflicted injury and plea that was laid upon him.

And yet, here he was. He was alive...ALIVE! He had stayed alive, and now she could finally touch him again, and look at him. She could be with this shell of a man, who once was the hero in her dreams.

how thin he was from the years of barely enough food to keep him alive, and he was pale and sweaty, and his blood had dried to his skin in so many places it was like he was dirty, wild animal, soaked in the filth of his existence.

she shook her head and then recalled the blood all over his hat, and mittens... The blood she thought was his, and then she realised that it was all just a trick.

He shushed her, and said her name again, resting his head against hers as she bitterly wept, embracing him tightly, as though to keep herself from slipping and crumpling up on the floor.

she had changed so much, he thought. Her hair was tied back so tight the ribbon couldn't be seen under her bun, and her face had lost that childish plumpness to it. Her eyes had terrible bruise like bags under them and her forehead seemed to wrinkle even before she would scrunch up her brows and sob as she rubbed her cheek up against him.

her dress was long, and conservative, and on her neck she bore a thick wooden scarf, under which he could spot a few bruises in the dull flame light.

Hans had had done that to her no doubt. Kept her up at night, tormenting her with his sickening words and silencing her into obedience. Surely she didn't give up without a fight though. It must have taken many years to reduce her to the subservience she must've been forced into.

was any part of the Anna he knew still there though? Was she still the woman he would envision, by his side as he wept for his friend, and his family and mother? Did she still have the same laugh, and ridiculous temper or the tendency to believe in silly things like true love?

"True love didn't work out for ya?" He guessed, speaking into her hair, gently with his lips, kissing it softly.

She sniffled and hiccuped, and sat back, drying her eyes with her dress, blowing into it, and he couldn't help but smile, stifling a snicker by clearing his throat. She was just as graceless as ever, he thought. Maybe she hadn't changed...not a whole lot anyway.

She sharply inhaled and then with her fingers tore off the tattered shirt he wore and discarded it, in two halves all the way on the other side of the cell. He gasped at her fierceness and then moaned as she began to kiss his bare chest.

She gently stroked his hair from behind and laid her lips on every bruise and blemish, spending a particularly long time on the one near his right shoulder, and he sighed.

He wished his hands weren't in these shackles, so that he might feebly return her embrace and touch her hair, and hands and simply hold her.

She trailed up his neck huffing in disgust at the metal collar that hung around him, and then brushed her cheek up against his chin, feeling the rough, and matted texture of the decent beard he had grown. It wasn't ridiculously long, but full enough to run a little down his neck.

He whined in his throat, a little self conscious, since he didn't know what he looked like, but she didn't seem to mind.

He wished she would look him in the eye.

"The beard is a bit much, but I think I like you with facial hair." She said finally.

His grin almost literally split his face, and he forced it to favor his right hand side, his teeth not really as white as they were, a few visibly missing from neglect and abuse.

He laughed, straight from deep inside, shaking his whole body, as he hung his head. She snorted and then laughed too, caressing his face with a hand.

Kristoff looked back up and sighed, "I missed you. I only survived knowing you were alive." He hissed as his tears stung his empty eye socket, the tears erupting against his swollen, bleeding eyelids.

She clasped her hands together, and stared in dismay. Kristoff controlled himself and then continued.

"I waited for you." He said. "I knew you'd find me someday."

Anna was about to say something, when suddenly a deep red light began to glow in the corner of the cell, by the window. They both looked, and Kristoff hurriedly urged her to come closer with his shackled hands.

"Anna, come here, don't look at it... You don't need to see this!" He cried, and she fell into his chest, panicked.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Its your sister..." He grimly responded... "She haunts me...it isn't pretty."

Anna shuddered, and then buried her face into him and tried not to look.

"She's coming..." The red glow said, with an airy, desperate voice.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Henricka was waiting for her mother to return, hopefully with an idea of how to break out Kristoff. Her father would be gone by tonight, and then Anna would be totally free. She could show the people Kristoff and tell the people what their king had done, not only to him, but to her as well.

Hetty loved him so dearly though. She didn't want him to get into too much trouble. Surely he had a bad temper, and maybe he was a bit too violent, but he was so gentle with her. She adored him, and she saw the beautiful and wonderful man he could be.

She almost was beginning to regret her choice of actions. Maybe she could convince her mother to keep it a secret that she knew about Kristoff. Maybe they could get him to safety and then blame someone else for setting him free.

Fake his death? Maybe...

As she pondered the possible alternatives she didn't really hear the footsteps echoing down the hall, nor did she notice it at first when a group of people rounded the corner..

"We should remove him from these premises in case she decides to wander around while I'm gone. The beast can be held in another side of the prison, but he cannot be caught in ..." The voice spoke quietly, trailing off as it reached her.

She suddenly took note of the shadow looming over her in the flame light, and the dead silence. She looked up and her heart fell, the ice in her veins screaming at her, trying to burst forth and frost up the ground around them, but she held it in.

She willed the fear out of her eyes and took a deep breath, "Oh, hello Papa. You startled me." She smiled, clasping her hands behind her back.

He didn't look impressed though. He was looking around and behind her, checking to see if anyone was down the hallway. He looked at her and then at his men.

"Henricka, sweetheart, why are you down here?" He asked through his teeth, and she could tell he was nervous. She could feel it infecting her with panic, but she held strong.

"I was told there were ghosts in here, but there weren't any. So I decided to leave." She said, looking at him dead in the eye.

He raised an eyebrow and pressed his lips together. He was giving her a kind of look with which she was unfamiliar. He used to look at Olaf that way...

"Your Majesty?" A man asked from behind him.

He turned and nodded, "You go fix it. I'll take her upstairs." he muttered,

Henricka felt her plus increase and she began to talk again, "No, wait..." She blurted

"I was lying..." She said, her father swirled back around to face her, a look of betrayal and possibly something else in his eyes.

She clarified, "I did see a ghost... A hideous red woman... And she fell apart in front of me! And she tried to possess my soul! You shouldn't go down there!"

She recited panicked, but using it to her advantage to appear scared.

Olaf had told her some ghost stories about this place, and had only hoped that he would buy it.

Hans looked at the other men and then glared menacingly at one who seemed to be laughing.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm sure she's gone now, now just get back upstairs and stay away from this place. It is extremely dangerous." He said, a sweet texture to his voice, and she almost wanted to comply with him...

But out her mother...

"I...uh..." She began, but then suddenly Hans grabbed her by the arm.

She yelped at how firmly he gripped her, and she began to feel the cold sweat coming...the cold sweat that she felt whenever she froze things unintentionally, and he tried to pull her away with him.

"That is enough Henricka, you're beginning to talk like your lunatic brother! I won't have this nonsense from you!" He scolded her, dragging her away.

The other men began to advance towards the hallway to the dungeons, and finally she lost control..

"NO!" She cried, yanking herself away, trying to reach the men to stop them.

Hans fell back and then his eyes immediately locked with the wall of spiked ice, his men lying around on the ground, knocked over by the force at which it erupted from his own daughters hands...

His own daughter... His only child...the one person in his whole life with whom he was never disappointed with.

She had been his treasure. His absolute pride and joy, she was so perfect to him, in ways that he seldom found easy to describe. He had her whole future planned out, and she was going to be there by his side, never failing him and always being there for him...

But it was all ...this was just...

He glared at her suddenly, his nostrils flared and he shot up to his feet, screaming with rage, "You little witch!"

The he guards stood up as well, racing towards her, and she screamed, the frost shooting forth and coating everything, putting out the torches in its wake.

"YOU TRAITOR," He hollered, lunging for her, ordering his men to go after her.

She tripped and fell a few times on her own ice, but she had much more mastery over it than they did and so she made it to the cell...

But just as she was about to open it and warn her mother...

The cell glowed red...she stared at it with widened eyes and trembled, shrinking back.

"Henricka..." It called.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Anna sat up abruptly, and she yelped, as she heard screams and shouting coming from the hallways, "NO! HETTY" she cried, "HE FOUND OUT!"

But Kristoff managed to hold her back, "Wait calm down, what's going on?" He asked.  
He eyed the glowing spectre warily.

Anna yanked herself from him and replied, "He'll kill her... He'll kill her just like he..." Anna turned around and froze.

Elsa stood before them, glowing red and glistening as though she were a poorly carved ice sculpture, melting in slow motion but discoloured red, like blood. She was facing the door, and she turned around in the air, holding her hand up to her.

"Stay...back..." She ordered, her voice hoarse and less spirit like as it had been just a moment ago.

Anna fell to the floor and then tried to protest, "ANNA..." The spirit spoke her name.

She nodded slightly, fumbling for Kristoff behind her somewhere.

"Don't be afraid..." She said, "When your daughter arrives, you must tell her to open the door..."

And nd with that she turned back, her lopsided face dripping a little as she did so. Anna asked many questions all at once, but not one was answered.

Then finally from the other side, they heard Hetty approaching.

"Henricka." Elsa began

"Open the door..."


	15. Everything is going to be alright

Henricka fell to the floor, and shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes as the red glow from beyond the door pulsed brightly.

It ordered her to open the door, but she wasn't game. She would NOT open that door, there was no way in hell. What gruesome hellish ghoul lay behind that door, she was not very keen on having any encounters with.

But, her mother...

"Hetty... sweetheart, it's okay, just open the door..." her mother tried to reassure her from the other side.

Henricka sobbed and tried to stand, the echoes of her father and the guards drawing nearer as they made their way on the ice. The frost would only hold them back for so long, and she was finding it hard to concentrate.

Her mother continued to plead with her though, "Henricka, open the door, it's okay! You'll be okay, but you just have to come inside with us"

"Hurry, before your father gets back!" Kristoff added, speaking directly to her for the first time.

Kristoff held Anna around her waist, loathing the metal which separated their hands, and he stared into the door and through the slowly dripping and melting figure.

Suddenly, everything and anything he knew about spirits and the dead came flooding back to him. He hadn't asked very much during his life with the trolls about spirits, but what he did know was that each spirit which is trapped on earth has been put there for a reason.

Their encounters with people will vary depending on their method of death, their allegiances in their previous life, and the purity of their soul.

Elsa was murdered, which was a common death to cause a spirit to be trappe. Often they are confined to the place of death, or any other place at which their death had something to do with.

She had fear issues in her life, and so perhaps she can only successfully make contact with people if they are not afraid of her, but the time she has to soothe their fears is heavily limited... that explained why she was melting.

With that in mind, Elsa only had a limited amount of time before her contact with the human world was broken, and since her allegiance was not with Hans, her murderer, that meant that her purpose had to do with him.

"I see..." he muttered, finally realising what was going on.

"Henricka, please," he began, "Open the door.. if you open this door she'll be free and she won't be trapped in here anymore, don't be afraid or she'll just keep coming back this way!"

Henricka cried, and then was about to reply when the first of the guards rounded the corner and sloppily began to struggle his way towards her.

"THERE SHE IS! GET HER!" he yelled.

"Hetty, please," he continued, "Don't be afraid of her, she wants to protect you! Open the door before it's too late!"

By now Anna was completely at a loss, she was petrified, clinging to his form, as she continued to gape horrified at her sister's disfigured melting corpse, which only stood by sheer willpower now, her bones although transparent were visible from under the melting red tinted ice.

Her image had become more realistic and less ice like now, her hair was white and the blueish remnants of her dress showed through the patches of what could only be described as blood.

She wanted to just leap up and force the door open herself but she was too scared to move.

She heard Hans approaching, and her daughters screams...

And then suddenly...

"AAAAAAAAAH!" The men, and Hans, and everyone there in the prison screamed as suddenly the entire roof of the prison was ripped of, blocks of stone and bricks and hardened mortar crumbled and fell to the ground, and a menacing roar filled the air, a fearsome, spiked creature of snow glowing vibrantly under the moonlight.

Like a flash, the corpse like creature that was Elsa vanished and while everyone was occupied with the snow golem, she entered the terrified girl by force.

The terror and fear from her eyes and face dissolved within a beat, and shakily she stood. Her eyes glowed with the blue of the magic snow which enveloped the kingdom even further by the second, and her hair frosted over from the inside, the color draining from it at such a velocity that her braid was undone.

She clenched her fists a few times before looking up at the giant snowman, "Thank you." she mouthed.

The creature screamed and swiped at the men, his battle cry warranting a hundred smaller screams, both from the onlookers and the guards who all instantly charged, their weapons at the ready.

hans stared in a furious stupor... why had that forsaken creature come down to the castle? Why was it here where it was outnumbered and all of nature was against his advantage? It just made no sense for the snowman, whom had seldom showed its face to human kind since their first meeting to suddenly ...

"Oh...no..." he growled as a head of fiery red could be spotted atop the gleaming beast, holding on for dear life to his spikes, and howling, hooting, and screaming like a lunatic from the back of it.

"Long time no see, hans!" He sneered, awarding his father with an obscene hand gesture, and practically cackling as the monster upon which he rode reared back for a moment.

"OLAF!" Anna screamed, as the snowman reached down and ripped the chains from their holders that held Kristoff in place, the guards half backing away, and half attacking him as he did so.

"Go, mama, take him and get out of here! I don't want you getting hurt!" the boy called, nearly slipping off his own icicle as she said so.

But hans would no allow it. He reached for a sword discarded on the floor and charged for the two on the floor ready to do with both of them what he should have a long time ago..

But then a wall of ice emerged between them, closing Kristoff and Anna into it safely, as Marshmallow advanced forward to continue attacking the guards, and all the other men who rushed to try and stop him.

hans turned and then glared at the young girl who held her hand out, completely calm, almost bored and she announced, "Your time is finally over, Hans."

He griped his sword tighter and stared at her. He didn't want to kill he. He couldn't fathom taking his own daughter's life. Powers or not, he had loved her so dearly, hadn't he?

But then she flicked her wrist and he nearly didn't dodge the thick blast of ice that came flying his way, he cursed and then looked at her again...

No, he thought. The daughter he knew was a lie. It was all just an elaborate were all against him.. THE WHOLE TIME, they had been planning this..

He laughed, manically, succumbing to the paranoia and madness as he twisted and distorted the facts in his mind, trying to make sense of it all, and for all his efforts, he couldn't come up with more than the thought that everything he ever knew in life was a lie. Everyone he loved, didn't want him. They wanted him dead. He was the only person wh could care for himself, an just when he thought he'd finally found someone who was a soul like his, she betrayed him too.

No, he thought, he CAN kill her. He WILL kill her.

She stood back and drew back her arms, a violent flurry of snow manifesting as she prepared her next blast.

He screamed and charged, "YOU LITTLE BRAT!"

He cried and laughed at the same time, "I TRUSTED YOU!"

He couldn't control his own blade as he swung it violently and wildly in the air, not even aiming, his swings locked by endless walls of snow and ice, his footing poor on the frosted up ground.

Elsa was in charge, and she decided that his death should be the same one her sister nearly died from. It would be the only thing that satisfied her, would be to see him freeze solid, his horrific expression plastered in place, and the ugliness of his soul on display for everyone to see as he melted in the light of day, reduced to nothing but a sickly puddle of water and blood, just like she herself had been reduced to.

He fell back at just the right moment and she lurched forward, he vicious blast clearing away his sword, and the other men surrounding them, and all the randomly grown spikes of ice, and mounds of snow, clearing the floor and the snow from the sky finally stopped, all of the ice and frost gathering up and surrounding the king, and he screamed in agony and writhed on the ground.

The guards ceased their fighting to stare in shock and the citizens whispered frantically to each other, most of them confused as to why the princess, who so publicly adored her father was attacking him.

"I... loved you..." He whispered, shivering, spiralling down into a fit of sobs.

The ice in his heart began to advance, his hair began to pale and his skin hardened into an icy blue at his fingertips.

Elsa's spirit left Henricka's body and then from the gathered up ice and snow, she materialised in the flesh.

She was, alive again.

Henricka fell to the ground, a little tired, and almost unconscious, but well and unharmed.. physically anyway. But her hair and eyes would remain discolored now thanks to her ordeal with the possession, but just as promised by their spirit theory she was not hurt.

The walls broke around Kristoff and Anna, who gawked at the living queen, and the quickly freezing king.

"Elsa?" Anna gasped. Her sister turned to her, and ignoring the dying fiend, she rushed to her sister, tears instantly in her eyes and threw herself onto her.

"Y-you're alive?" she asked

Elsa shook he head and then replied softly, "Only for two days, and then I have to go back..." She kissed her and then practically pushed her over, hugging her so tightly, she hurt her own arms, Kristoff sloppily catching them, and somehow finding himself stuck in the embrace.

Elsa let go and then sat up, and Anna did too, and they linked hands together.

"I missed you." Anna said.

Henricka however as soon as she recovered, instantly rose from the floor and screamed, crying out for her father. She screamed and wailed, trying to take up the ice, and the frost, from his heart but he frantically batted away at her and shoved her to the ground, cursing at her.

"Please..." she begged, her hand outstretched, her smacked it back so hard it stung and she flinched as he swung at her again.

"please, stop! Papa, I'm trying to help you!" she explianed, but it was to no avail.

"Please..." she cried, "I know how to cure it... I can unfreeze you!" she cried.

Finally he began to slow and falter, staring at her menacingly, but with his full attention.

For a long moment there was nothing but silence between the two of them, and everyone around them.

Anna whispered to Elsa, "should we let her do that?"

Elsa placed a finger to her lips and replied,

"We'll see what happens." her tone was grim, and the look on her face was like one who was about to watch a rabid animal be put to death.

Stoic, cold...uncaring. But Anna knew how much Hans had meant to her daughter, and so it pained her heart to see this tragedy transpiring. All along, Hetty had been the only one who hadn't suffered. She had lived a good and happy life, and now for the first time she was feeling it...suffering, and despair.

She began to question if their own happiness was worth the cost of her daughters, until suddenly Hans made a move.

"Henricka... come..." he weakly ordered. He lifted a shivering hand and beckoned her.

She hesitated but slowly shuffled forward, afraid to belive this to be true.

"Come, closer... please..." he shuddered, "i'ts so cold..." he begged finally.

She sobbed a little but then rushed over to his side.

"You know how to fix it?" he asked, looking her in the eyes.

She nodded, "yes..."

She reached down to touch his heart, when he reached up and grasped it tightly, his hand freezing around her wrist, and he sneered, "SO DO I!"

He ripped up a stray icicle from the side and hen with all the force left in his body he rammed it... straight for her heart...

and then froze solid.

Henricka screamed and fell back, the icicle merely a centimetre away from her breats, his face forever frozen in a twisted snarl of vengeance.

Finally, finding her own feet Anna let go of her sister and Kristoff and rushed over to her baby girl.

"Mamaaaaa!" Hetty wailed, her eyes unable to finish being pulled into the hateful glare that was the last thing she ever saw of her father.

Anna wrapped her arms around the girl and pulled her head into her chest, forcing her to look away, and she gently eased her hand out of the dead king's grasped which had slightly loosened during his final attack.

"I'm so sorry, Hetty... It's okay. I got you. It's gonna be okay now." She promised.

Henricka was about to reply when suddenly a charging rumble, accompanied by a roar of assorted screams came to their attention, which suddenly slowed and fell into an awkward silence...

Kristoff stared at the latecomers, dressed ridiculously and waving around little stone weapons which looked like they had just been made, probably no more than two hours ago and he sighed...

"Uh..." one of the trolls muttered aloud, "Did... we miss the fight?"

Bulda concked him on the head and then he fell to the floor, in a little ball, and then they all turned their attention towards Kristoff.

And then they all proceeded to bury him alive.

"KRISTOOOOOFFFFF!" they all screamed.

"Ack!" he cried in shock, "Wait! Guys, GUYS! OUCH! hey, HEY I'M NOT THAT STRONG ANYMORE.. OUCH!"

Too amused to be crying anymore, Hetty giggled, hiccuping into her mother's chest and watching the stone riddled fiasco, the giant snowman, letting her brother down from his back, who came running to their side.

Maybe things... were going to be okay.

XxXxXxXxX

In the end Hans didn't have enough love in his heart after all, the hatred and fear within intensified his own curse and he doomed himself in trying to end it himself, and so Henricka finally saw, that no matter how much she had loved him, he couldn't have been saved.

It still hurt, yes, and she doubted she'd recover from it any time soon, but she didn't resent her aunt for her actions, or at least she didn't FEEL resentful. She didn't really feel anything for the moment, but she'd have time to think it out later.

It was probably the fact that she had technically killed him herself, with her own body, but she decided not to dwell on it. With her brother, back and alive after all and her mother free from his torture forever, she decided that it was for the best, even if it didn't make her feel any better about it.

Anna and Elsa revealed the truth to the citizens of Arendelle. The corrupted staff were all fired or imprisoned, and the old staff, who there were few left of, were rehired, and things slowly began to return to normal.

Olaf returned Marshmallow to his home, and Kristoff joined him, planing to stay a few months with his family, before trying to adjust to life in the castle.

Anna had basically forced a proposal onto him, which although he didn't want to deny, felt it was too soon after her first marriage to be trying to get into another one.

Olaf never felt more at home in the castle than this, like nothing he'd ever known in his whole life. Suddenly he was totaly free, even if confined to its tall, stone walls. He could be himself and not wory abot watching his back and looking around every corner before simply walking past.

Elsa spent her two days with Anna exclusively, and they shared what last of their lives together that they had, before on the last morning, Elsa and Anna walked out to the fjords.

"Anna," she began, "I want you to take good care of the kingdom. You've turned into a wonderful Queen, and I'm so proud of you." She held her sister's face gently and kissed her forehead.

Anna sniffed and nodded, "I'm so happy I got to finally see, one last time.."

Elsa turned to walk out to the fjords, but then quickly twirled around again, "Oh, and give this.." She twirled her hands and a small, smooth, round icy ball appeared in her hands, circular indents carved towards it's center, "to Kristoff."

She dropped it into her sister's hand who inspected it further and then gasped, "it's an eye!" she exclaimed, grasping it tightly.

"And it'll never melt... I made it that way." she replied, feeling just a little proud that even on her last day on earth she was STILL learning what her powers could do.

"Take care." she said again, and then without another word, she advanced to the fjords, freezing small patches so that she could stand on them and then once she was far out enough into the water, the sun began to fully rise, and there she turned white, and fell away into the ocean, to join their parents.

Anna's eyes remained on that spot for what felt like hours, until finally, Kai, who was still around when they had asked for previous staff to come forward, tapped her on the shoulder, "Your majesty, my dear, I think we should head back now."

She looked to him and then nodded, "you're right."

They linked arms and headed back towards the castle.

"Kai?" she began softly.

"Yes, your majesty?"

"I want to be buried at sea. Let it be the new tradition, for our family." she declared.

He chuckled and responded, "I'll see what we can do about that."

They continued walking.


	16. Epilogue

Kristoff inhaled deeply and then pushed open the doors to his new room. It was clear that not a lot of rooms in this castle had been used, judging by the thick layers of dust that covered absolutely everything, but he was used to dirt and other unmentionable filth, so it was a blessing to him.

He smiled as he spotted Anna, shuffling around with a bunch of clothes, shoving them into an already packed wardrobe, and verbally abusing the items, nicknaming them individually as they shifted and fell on top of her respectively.

"Oh, stop it! You big purple lizard, what the heck kind of a print is that? Who the heck gave me THIS dress? The tasteless, cheapskates, and OOF! Hey! Sit BACK there, what are you getting at anyway?" She grumbled, before yanking out a random article, causing her to fel all the way back, all the clothing tumbling out in tow.

Kristoff stepped forward with his arms out, catching her roughly, and then falling back himself. He had forgotten how weakened he had become after his 'stay' in the dungeons.

Regardless, he and Anna shared a look, and he wheezed under her weight, "Glad I caught you..."

The heavily pregnant woman slipped him a deadpan expression, an almost-smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth.

She pushed off of him and then yanked up a random dress and the sighed, "Well, I guess this one will have to do."

It was a deep burgundy color, with traditional floral motifs on the skirt and black bodice, trimmed with a deep velvety looking bronze color and a V shaped neck with long, flowing sleeves. It had an under-the-bust-line skirt, so it wouldn't hinder her still growing belly, with a partially see through layer over the top, which opened at the front and looked like a dress one should be wearing to an adults only party, not a little girl's sixteenth birthday.

"Anna, I think that one is a bit more mature... can we save that one for another night?" He hinted, not really digging the whole sexy-black-on-red thing.

She huffed and crossed her arms, "I NEVER get to wear this one!" she groaned, tossing it aside and then looking for more.

"Pah, 'mature' you say...You clearly don't recall what my SISTER tried to get away with wearing..." she grumbled.

He sighed and decided to get dressed himself.

His clothing were few and neatly kept, despite his newly wed wife's insistence that he get a full blown wardrobe treatment, and they were simple and traditional.

Having slimmed down a whole three sizes, he fit into what used to be her father's clothing and some of Hans' left behind jackets... Those god forsaken Sven-boots and all it's relatives had been burned years ago however...

He pulled together something decent, and then adjusted the eyepatch he was wearing, carefully taking it off and folding it up next to Anna's jewelry box, and gently lifted up the alternative one that he only used for portraits and public appearances like this.

Henricka had made it to match the eye which lay beneath. He glanced up into the mirror and gazed fondly at the stationary crystalline blue orb that glowed coolly in the left side of his face. He hummed, and then put on the eyepatch, strapping it under his bangs and tucking the other strap just beyond his ear where it felt most comfortable.

It had taken a good few months to get used to wearing one, and figuring out how to put it on and which position was the most successful in staying put. It was a nearly blue like silver, with a decorative rim around the patch, jagged looking like snowflakes and white to match, the crest of Arendelle in its center.

He nodded at himself and then checked his closely cut beard, before turning to look and see if his wife was nearly ready...

"Do you think I look fat in this?" She asked, her voice altered by the way she craned her neck to peek at her bottom through the fabric.

He rolled his eyes, "No, Anna, you're slender as a doe." he commented, not really stopping to keep his habitual deer-related-terminology in check, and she puffed out her cheeks, pursing her lips and then tossed off the dress to find a new one.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Henricka sang softly to herself as she twirled around her bedroom, twisting the icicles on her ceiling to look like little ornaments, and unicorn like stalactites, before tinting the frost on her floor a hue of lavender to match the drapes and then huffed, a little tired.

She smiled at her work and then turned to the mirror, completely confident that she'd excercised her powers enough to successfully continue getting ready.

She liked to warm up before trying to dress herself using the ice magic, seeing as once she had done it completely impromptu and it had been a disaster, when she forgot to make it melt-proof and she ended up advertising the color of her brassiere to the Prince of Agrabah who kindly looked the other way suddenly, so fast her nearly fell off the balcony they had been standing on.

Thank Allah, in his case, for flying carpets, she thought.

She lifted up her arms and began to transform, her sleeves a transparent white, puffed to the elbow but then smooth down to the wrist, and she crafted a modest aqua bodice, lowering her hands to decorate her girly, flowing skirt, leaving snowflake patterns all across the already turquoise fabric, and fitted herself with a pretty ice cape, similar to the one she saw her aunt wearing during her brief stay with them.

She didn't really take modern or popular trends into account when crafting a dress. It was all about her imagination and coming up with things that no human could ever replicate in the flesh. No one else seemed to mind, for they usually were too stunned at the existence of ice-based clothing than taking notice of the era in which such styles were worn.

And besides, she was a princess! She could do what she wanted!

She let her arms fall to her sides and heaved a huge sigh. Hans had always said that to her.

_"Hetty, you're a perfect little princess. You'll grow up to be a perfect queen too. But for now, while your just a girl you don't HAVE to worry about the future responsibilities. Just have fun, and do whatever you want, because you CAN." _

She whimpered a little, raising a hand to her eye and wiping away the sudden, bitter tears. She eased herself into a chair and buried her head in her arms, the softness of the ice fabric soothing her slightly as she began to weep.

She had always imagine he would be there, when she got older and began to take her steps into adulthood. That he'd be holding her hand at the ball, and dancing with her and Helping her learn the basics of politics and teaching her how to pick out the trouble making boys from the good hearted ones.

Of course, her mother was doing all that for her now, and she wasn't doing any less of a job, if not, she was even better at it (particularly with that last bit), but it still hurt so much.

He told her that night, he had needed her. He had said he had loved her. But she needed him more...she loved him more. It was hopeless.

She didn't hear the door opening, bu she certainly felt his hand on her shoulder, and she gasped, sitting up and looking to her right.

There, with a softness in his eye was Kristoff, his brows peaked up in concern, and he didn't need to ask her what was wrong.

She stood up and embraced him tightly, and he petted her loose curly hair, as she let it all out.

"Your mother wanted to help you put on your make up, so you ought to finish crying or you'll ruin your eyes." He mockingly warned her, causing her to reluctantly giggle into his coat.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Olaf peeked around the corner, checking twice behind himself...

He dashed to the other side of the corridor, with precise movements, masking his sound, making not a single noise. He stilled his breath and halted at another corner, his boots in hand, and he waited for a couple to pass him by.

Certain he hadn't been noticed, he slid down the hallway, avoiding every obstacle with ease and then finally, leaping down from the banister and onto a flat landing just on the floor below, he shook the shock out of his feet and then took a deep breath.

He knocked, once... twice...

The door creaked open, on the third knock, and a piercing blue eye, almost like his own, but akin more to the ocean than the sky, met with his gaze and the door quickly shut again.

He counted the three locks that every door in this castle had, and then finally it drew open.

"Are you ready?" He asked the young princess, who's raven hair fell over her shoulders an onto her golden and white shimmering dress. His breath hitched slightly as he trailed his eyes down, and then up again.

He never knew he liked the color yellow so much...

"Well, does it look like I'm ready?" She sassed back, crossing her arms.

He chuckled a little and clasped his hands together, grinning sheepishly at her, "Not more than you were six minutes ago!" he replied.

She bopped him on the nose with a folding fan and he yelped quietly, as she scolded him half-heartedly, "My father wants you to join the underwater kingdom you know..." She paused for dramatic effect, "And NOT as a merman, Olaf..."

He burst into a fit of nervous laughter and his cheeks flushed red, turning away, "Melody! You're exaggerating! I've done nothing wrong!" he swore.

She giggled and bopped him on the head with her fan again, "I know, silly, but tell that to Mr-Daddy's-Little-Princess-Forever" she replied, rolling her eyes.

Olaf shrugged and joked, "Aw, jeeze, you have one of them too? We got rid of ours years ago!"

She raised her eyebrows at him, disbelieving how low he really went with his jokes sometimes, knowing his bit obnoxious mouth was going to get him into some serious trouble some day.

"Just shoo! I'll meet you when the ball begins!" she promised.

He sighed, and then nodded, but not before stealing a quick kiss on her lips, and then taking in the sight of his gorgeous fiancee one last time before she practically chucked her fan at his face, before quickly shutting the door again, an unavoidable smirk on his face, and a warning look on hers.

"See you later..." he muttered, before heading back again.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The ball went splendidly, and it could truly be said, that with her adoring stepfather and loving mother by her side, by the end of the night, nothing could possibly go wrong. She had long since pushed back those toxic memories of her father, and had thoroughly made a good impression on her peers and future colleagues of the like.

Olaf, had left early to head back to the kingdom of Lorelei where he'd taken to staying for study at one point, and then ended up getting engaged to their princess, Melody, and controversially so in the eyes of neighbouring kingdoms, all of which were wary of ANY prince with heritage lying in the dreaded Southern Isles.

He had been so occupied with his beloved that it was almost like he was a stranger now, compared to the crazy, annoying, nagging older brother she was used to, but in truth, Olaf had served her and her mother for his whole life, sacrificing himself far too many times for their sakes, and so they were really just happy to see him living his own life now.

By the time the young woman, no longer a little girl, had fallen fast asleep, the queen and her husband stood for a while in the now empty ballroom and stared out the gorgeously wide window, hand in hand.

"I wish Elsa was here to see this." She said finally, "Not just in spirit... you know... but for real."

Kristoff hummed and then added, "I wish Sven was here."

There was an awkward silence, before suddenly Anna pulled back his eyepatch and snapped it back into his face within a matter of seconds before playfully beating him over the head and arms with her palms, for ruining the moment.

"Oh you big, baby! Seriously! Next thing, you'll be asking Santa for a baby reindeer for Christmas!" she cried exasperatedly.

He pasued and then peeked up at her suddenly with the cutest puppy dog face he could muster up, "...Can I have a baby reindeer?" he meekly asked.

Anna dropped her forehead against his shoulder and sighed, smiling "Sure. Fine. Whatever."

Kristoff squealed like a little kid and bounced on the spot, hugging her carefully, and kissing her millions of times in the face.

"You really ARE a big baby!" she laughed, and then forcing him to halt, she grasped his face firmly and kissed him sweetly.

Now, THIS was what true love felt like. THIS was what happily ever after meant. And she, absolutely loved it.

XxXxXxXxXxX


	17. Bonus - Deleted Plot Twists

Hey everyone! So, as some of you may know, my darker frozen fic "We, the Spiritless" finally drew to a close not too long ago.

I have to say that its reception was humble, and small but it was very very worthwhile. Seeing the same people faving new chapters and the few loyal commenter or reviewer made me all the more determined to not abandon this project!

So, I suppose, some of you might be wondering where the hell I got the idea to write such a horrible and gory fan fiction!

**(This intro is a bit long, so if you're only interested in the list, scroll down until you reach the bolded paragraph and the list is there)**

It all started with an Elsanna fic. Yes, that's right, I read an Elsa x Anna fic which was supposed to be 'romantic' and 'tragic' and... Okay, I'm not gonna name names here or anything but it was pretty much the worst fic I have ever read in my whole entire LIIIIIIIIIIIFFFFFEEEEEE.

It was, in a word, atrocious. I then did something I normally DONT do, and I commented on it, telling the person that a few of the points in her story either made no sense to me, and that the fic didn't need a mature rating ( ), because it wasn't very mature at all.

naturally, I recieved the worst verbal bashing of my life, worst as in they totally didn't know how to abuse someone online and I ended up blocking them when they started abusing MY fics, (in cowardly guest reviews, like a coward)

and she kept saying things like, "omg, all u rite is love shit, and ur such and ideot becus hans is liek so totally a evil prick bru"

And so, I had a look at my own gallery and... Sadly she was 'rite'. All I ever wrote before spiritless was lovey dovey stuff, and AU endings, and Good!Hans AU

and everything in relation to Kristoff, was always super sappy, and cute.

So, just to spite her, and prove that I can TOTALLY write better gore and tragedy, I concocted Spiritless overnight.

its plot was, however initially WAY WAAAAAAAAAY darker, and more sick and sinister.

**Below is a list of plot lines, characters, and even brief scenes that didn't make the cut. I have labelled in parenthesis why I cut the idea, and why I almost put them into the story. Tell me your thoughts on it if you like!**

**- originally, I was going to stretch the timeline of spiritless to last until Hetty was sixteen. She was going to have found Kristoff and at this point she didn't know who he was, and she would fall in love with him. Kristoff was going to psychologically substitute her for Anna, in his madness and take her virginity, leaving her pregnant with an illegitimate child.**

**Hans would have found out she was pregnant and tried to force her into a miscarriage, (this is where Anna's stillborn scene came from) but she would have begged him to let her keep it. Hetty had no powers at this point, and was completely untouchable by Hans, and so he let her keep it.**

(The reason I didn't keep this was because I felt it was a bit wrong for Kristoff to become a pedofile and for his own child to grow up thinking his father was his grandpa, and all this other stuff that was complicated. How would Anna have reacted? She would have punched him in the balls to be honest, so I decided to not do that. Then suddenly I got the idea to give Anna a stillborn, and then let her and Kristoff have their own baby in the epilogue instead.)

** - Originally, I was going to make Hans have an incest obsession with Hetty, to the point where he tried to kill Anna in order to have his daughter for his wife instead. I got rid of this for the same kind of reasons I got rid of the above concept. Also, I was going to have it that Hetty was sucked into the complex, and began to withdraw from her mother out of jealousy and spite. **

**Anna was going to be aware of his obsession, confirming it when she caught him trying to undress their daughter, during what was supposed to be a study lesson. This lead to Anna accusing her daughter of 'stealing her husband' and she was going to assume she was having sex with him, and in her rage raped her with a hairbrush.**

yeah. I don't need to tell you why I didn't keep THAT storyline.

**- instead of giving Hans and Hetty a weird, creepy incest plot twist, I ended up torturing Olaf instead. Before I decided to make the whole plot twist with Elsa and her revenge, I was going to have her simply appear every night in the castle, and she would aimlessly wander. One night Olaf was to have stumbled upon her, probably aged thirteen or fourteen, and he was to instantly fall in love with her.**

**He didn't know she was his aunt since she couldn't speak, and she wasn't aware of the fact her was her nephew since she had no perception of what year it was or how long she'd been dead. It started out very happy, and simple. It was going to be a brighter, happier side story for the audience and then it was to slowly turn romantic, and then tragic.**

**below is the scene I had written for this plot which never made it,**

"Olaf took a deep breath and leaned against the banister, staring off into the moonlight, waiting for her.

He always waited for her, and with each passing second... Each, excruciatingly painful, tedious second, he fell further and further into a death like despair, that only could be broken by her presence. For years now, she had been his only companion, and his only friend. She could not speak to him. He could not touch her. It didn't matter though.

She always listened to him, and that was so much more than he could have asked for. The gentle way she would nod her head at just the right time, and how her hair would elegantly float as she trailed him, down the darkened corridors and empty rooms which served the setting for their life together.

He heaved a sigh, as finally the clock struck ten. She materialised before him, and upon her forever grief stricken face, she smiled.

He wept, briefly, wiping away the tears quickly and putting on a brave face as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.

"Dear princess," he adressed her, knowing not what her name was, or if she was even royalty at all, "I need to...ask you something."

She nodded and clasped her hands.

"Ever since I was only a boy, I have loved you. Not just, some frivolous infatuation...no, I cannot possibly explain to you how deeply, and painfully I adore you." He reached out to cup her face, for by now they shared a similar height.

He winced at the thought that he would forever grow old, and she would be forced to watch, "And I must know, my princess, will you...always love me?"

She reached to stroke his hand upon her face, mimicking the way one might hold a hand for a moment and leaning into his touch, her stark white features which were only barely visible twisted with longing.

She nodded.

"Even when...I'm older, and my youth is gone? Can you truly bear to watch me dying, always helplessly getting frailer...and weaker, and I can no longer wait for you out here, and instead you must come to me?" He whispered, sobs threatening to escape him. He refused to succumb to them though.

She gazed into his eyes, or so he assumed as they had no pupils, and then lurched forward, phasing her cold, transparent body partially into his. He shivered with pleasure at her chilling touch.

"Will, you wait...for me?" He breathed, "you know I'm not a fool. I wouldn't take my own life to be with you, because I'm not a coward. I don't care if I can't touch you, or ever hear your voice. But does it bother you?"

She shook her head, her cold forehead sending chills into his heart as she rested her face against his chest.

"Thank you." He wept. They stayed that way the rest of the night."

**(Yeah. Pretty sad, and pretty fucked up. I almost kept this, but then my Elsa revenge idea became way too practical, and I simply had to let this plot line go. It hurt me, because I had so many beautiful plans for it too, like a ghostly ballroom scene, where she dances with him, and several other spirited of royals gone by would also materialise to join in the dance.**

**i planned having Hans or Henricka find out he was helplessly in love with someone dead, and accusing him of sorcery and selling his soul to communicate with the dead, because I gave him the power to see spirits and no one else could.**

**i even planned for Elsa to attempt to come back to life, turning into a melting corpse and begin him to kiss her, saying that true loves kiss would bring her back, but only if he held the kiss until midnight (the time was like, 11:58 or something like that,) **

**but as she began to return to life, someone would walk into the room and scream, because it looked like Olaf was making out with a corpse. He would break the kiss befor midnight and she would melt away into the floor, and never be able to see him again, at which he laments for house before attempting to kill himself, but was seized and arrested, and dumped and banished on the north mountain for the rest of his life, until Kristoff was freed.**

**but... I had a new plot in mind already.**

And the very last plot that never made the cut-

**- Hans was to reform, but then die anyway. After Anna assumed that Hans was molesting their daughter, she was going to beat the shit out of Hans, and then somewhere along the way, they began to argue and Anna revealed that she wanted to love him again, and for him to love her, just like they used to be.**

she reminded him that she was his wife, and she was stuck with him forever, and he would have this sudden realisation of his error. He would then proceed to fuck her speechless and then the next chapter explained how he had slowly come into a reformation kind of phase in his life, even being nicer to Krisroff, and letting his have a bath and cutting his hair.

but his daughter got all jealous and resentful that he had 'forgotten' about her and tried to kill her mother in and argument between the two of them.

Hans interveins but not before she had succeeded in freezing her mothers heart, because in this version I had planned on giving Hetty ice powers. He then proceeded to mourn Anna, aware that he wasn't really her true love, since their love had only recently been rekindled and made real.

In his last moments with her decides to release Kristoff hoping it would cheer her up to see him alive, and thankfully well since he'd cleaned him up.

on his way out of the dungeon though, Kristoff turned on him and killed him, before escaping with his life and never being seen again, all in front of Anna whom was aware of who he was, but was too weak to try and stop him. She froze to death and Hans bled to death Olaf found them and the story would end on that note, leaving the audience to wonder if Hetty ever paid for what she did or if anyone even found out why it had happened.  
**  
**  
And that, my readers is just how fucked up I am o3o WOO!

I hope you enjoyed Spiritless, both the written version, and these messed up previous versions! See you later!


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